Midnight Songbird
by Lalaith Quetzalli
Summary: -Nightingale AU.- Some warriors are born out of strife and grief, others from choice and pride; birds may be creatures of beauty and song, but they still may choose to fight. In the end it always comes down to choices, and sometimes the choices of one girl, may change more lives than she ever imagined possible... (Smallville cameos) (Can be read as a Stand Alone)
1. Guardian

I don't own the Avengers, or anything else you might recognize, except Nightingale and Kathryn, and some other OCs, those are mine, though certainly not the actors and actresses I've chosen to portray them.

So... like I said before, we're moving on to Wakanda this time. This AU and the next one also mark the closest I plan on ever getting to the Accords and everything Civil War-related. I honestly believe most of that movie could never happen in the Nightingale-universe, and I'm holding onto that. It fit with this AU (and the next one) though.

This one follows also some of the things from the previous AU, "Mystic Bonds", the things that lead to the return of Silbhé's cancer being discovered earlier than in the main timeline, though I actually go into a bit more detail here.

This fic was inspired a bit by d_aia's "Debts", which is actually an IronPanther, I've become a huge fan of those. I loved how Tony, T'Challa and Wakanda in general was portrayed in that fic, and much of my version of Wakanda is taken from there. For the Dora Milaje and other characters I chose the names I found in the wiki, I use some events from the comic and discard others as convenient, sorry about that but it was necessary.

We have one cameo: Carter Hall, aka Hawkman from DC, the Smallville version of him to be precise. His daughter, Kendra Hall is an OC that has appeared before, in the main timeline. And on that front, in my dreamcast Kendra is interpreted by Taraneh Alidoosti, just in case you're interested. Also, Shuri is played by Emayatzy Corinealdi and, as always: Emily Browning as Silbhé/Nightingale and Kristin Scott Thomas as Kathryn. I didn't choose anyone for the Dora Milaje, but you can picture the ones that appeared in Civil War, and will appear in the Black Panther.

The title for this AU comes from the Midnight Angels, a sub-group of the Dora Milaje in the comics that serve as a sort-of black ops, and Nightingale being a Songbird.

Finally, this AU is divided in two parts and the next will be coming in two weeks. That's that for now, I hope you'll enjoy this!

* * *

Midnight Songbird

(Alternative Universe to _Nightingale_ )

 _By: Lalaith Quetzalli_

 _Some warriors are born out of strife and grief, others from choice and pride; birds may be creatures of beauty and song, but they still may choose to fight. In the end it always comes down to choices, and sometimes the choices of one girl, may change more lives than she ever imagined possible..._

 **Guardian**

Sometimes life chooses to take us down paths we never expected.

I was fourteen years old when I came to live in Wakanda. My life had never been exactly normal, or at least not the normal most people applied to their own lives. Born in Wales, in the UK in 1992, to Sebastian Salani and Aislinn Kinross-Salani. Mama died when I was very young, barely three-years old. It was that same year that Aunt Kathryn returned, after having spent fifteen years working for the government, and she, Papa and I moved to the US. We lived in Salani manor, in the outskirts of Westbrook, Maine (twenty minutes or so away from Portland). At four I was diagnosed with leukemia, blood cancer, and after some awful years, I entered remission at nine.

Something changed in my father afterwards. While I'd never doubted that he loved me, and he did spend time with me whenever he could, his job had always seemed to be his greatest priority. Someone had said once that maybe it was because of how much I looked like Mama, her same eyes, and hair just a shade or two darker than hers. Some believed that he'd loved her so much... that maybe it hurt him to look at me. It was a sad thought to have. But things changed after the cancer was gone (or as gone as cancer could be, anyway). He began having dinner with me and Aunt Kathryn at least every other night, and at least once a week we would all spend time together, either at home or going out somewhere: the park, the cinema, theater, it didn't matter. I finally had a family, and it was great.

When I was thirteen we went on vacation to Europe. It was late October of 2005, not exactly the most recommended time to be vacationing in Southern Italy (according to my own research, the best time was somewhere between June and early October...). But one of Papa's bosses had insisted, had even lent him use of his own villa in Sicily, so we went. It was a beautiful place. I kept taking pictures, wanting to show them to Luka...

Luka was my friend, the friend neither Aunt Kathryn nor Papa had ever seen, and there was a very good reason for that: he wasn't human. He was, in fact, an Aesir (an alien), Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies, and second prince of the Golden Kingdom of Asgard. He was my best-friend (my only true friend), and he'd told me how bad an idea it'd be for others to know we knew each others, that many people would never understand, including his own people, so we kept our friendship a secret, he only visited sporadically, when he knew I was alone in the rose garden (which, granted, happened less often since Papa had insisted on us spending more time together... I didn't mind, I knew Luka was still my friend).

It was Papa's idea to get on that yacht. They offered sightseeing, and it was a beautiful place, so we went. It really was amazing, the Mediterranean was like nothing I'd ever seen before, and I could hardly believe how comfortable the weather was, even though we were fast approaching winter (and I knew well enough that, had we been in Maine, we would have been buried beneath several layers of sweaters already). I spent at least an hour wishing Luka could be there, could see such beauty with his own eyes. I knew he'd visited Midgard (what he insisted on calling Earth) before, but still. And then the storm came.

It came out of nowhere, or at least that's how it seemed to us. We weren't ready. The Captain had no experience with sailing during a thunderstorm such as that one (either it had really come out of nowhere, or he hadn't been vigilant enough of the weather before we left the docks), and the rest of us just had no idea what to do. A lot of that day has long since been blocked from my memory, and that's alright, Aunt Kathryn said once that some things I didn't need to remember, and I believed her. Some things were evident enough though; like the fact that Aunt Kathryn and I survived that day... Papa didn't.

They found his body a week later, washed up the coasts, along with the Captain's second and another of the passengers of the yacht that day. The rest of us survived. It was the beginning of the change though. The rescue crews had gotten all of us straight to the hospital, even when most of us didn't have more that a slight cold and minor bruises. Except I did have more, something that had nothing to do with the sea or the accident. Something odd came up in the basic tests, and more were ordered. In the end the results were staring us all in the face: the cancer was back.

I'd always known it was a possibility, and I knew that we had time on our side. Awful as Papa's loss might be, the accident had given us that one good thing, the doctors had realized the cancer was coming back sooner than they'd have if they'd waited until my programmed check-up. That didn't change the fact that there was no known cure. Aunt Kathryn took me to every respectable hospital and doctor across Europe for three months straight, no one could give us a treatment and guarantee it'd work. At most they offered me some additional months, and even that was with the most extreme treatments, treatments that were as likely to kill me as they were to help me.

Days after my fourteenth birthday I was about ready to stand my ground. I was about finished with all the doctors, and the tests, and the assurances, only to end always the same way, with stupid platitudes, useless apologies and no positive result. If I was going to die, there was no way I was going to do so in a hospital, with no consciousness of time, place, or even of self. A part of me even wished there was a way I could get in touch with Luka in order to say goodbye, but he was so worried about me, about Asgard finding out about me, I knew the chances of him visiting anytime soon weren't very high. So I'd rather not focus on that.

I wasn't expecting it when Aunt Kathryn told me where we were going next. I hadn't even gotten the chance to tell her I didn't want any more hospitals, any more doctors...

"I know you're tired of this, darling." She told me quietly. "I know it's been an awful three months. Just give me one more chance. There's one place where they might be able to help you. I promise you if it doesn't work we'll be going straight home."

She sounded so down, like someone holding onto her last hope... and then I realized that's exactly what she was. I was her niece, I was the only family she'd left. Her brother was gone, her parents were long gone (I never knew them); I didn't know her to have any other family and had never seen her meet with any friends. I was effectively all she'd left. So I agreed to give it another go, one more chance... I never expected that decision to bring us to Wakanda, or everything that would follow that particular choice.

We arrived to the International Airport of Wakanda two weeks after my fourteenth birthday. It had taken us that long because I'd suffered from a cold that laid me out for over a week. I still wasn't fully recovered, but Aunt Kathryn had insisted on us traveling as soon as possible, worried as she was about me getting worse. I had no idea why we were there, had never even heard about a country called Wakanda. Could have never known what was waiting for me there.

We were received by an imposing black woman in elegant African robes in shades of green. I knew instinctively that she was someone important and bowed my head respectfully at her.

"Your Majesty..." Aunt Kathryn bowed deeply at the woman. "I wasn't expecting this."

"We will always be happy to receive an esteemed guest such as yourself, Ekaterine." The woman greeted my aunt with honest respect, and something else I could quite place.

And then I noticed something else. A girl standing a couple of steps beside the woman (the queen, apparently). She looked to be about a decade older than me, and so very beautiful. She also reminded me of a dream I'd had several times, of a beautiful Egyptian warrior-princess... she looked nothing like my dream, but her aura was the same. I reacted automatically, holding my off-white long skirt loosely in a hand and doing the best curtsy I could in my weakened state.

"Your Highness..." I murmured quietly.

"So you told your young niece then?" The Queen inquired of my aunt.

"Your Majesty, aside from informing her we were coming to Wakanda, and the obvious reason for our coming, I told her nothing." My aunt admitted quietly.

"Really?" She turned her penetrating gaze towards me then. "How did you know then, young one? That the one standing behind me is my daughter, the Princess Shuri. Or did you guess?"

"I knew not for sure, your Majesty." I admitted quietly, not really looking at the floor, though not looking at her either. "But your daughter possesses an aura... I cannot quite explain it other than to say that she carries herself as one of high blood..."

"Interesting the way you choose to state it." The Queen just wouldn't stop staring at me. "Are you aware, young one, that the term 'high blood' is used to refer not only to those of royal blood, but also warriors?"

"I am aware, yes." I nodded, and before she actually had to ask, I added. "I meant it both ways."

The Queen nodded. I wasn't sure why it was so important, my choice of words, my knowledge of such terms; was just glad they didn't keep asking why I was using them (not sure saying it was due to a dream would have been an acceptable explanation...). That was the first time I talked to the Queen and Princess of Wakanda, the first but not the last.

I didn't understand then, how odd it all was, the fact that we, outsiders were being accepted in Wakanda. That doctors saw to me. That they agreed to give me the cure... because apparently Wakanda has a cure for cancer! One that is available to no one but their own citizens. In the end it was none other than Princess Shuri who explained it to me:

"Ekaterine has never told you, has she?" The young princess murmured as she sat on a comfy armchair beside my hospital bed. "The reason why she has our respect and regard. Why you're receiving the cure even though you're both technically outsiders..."

"No, I'm afraid I do not know the reason princess." I told her softly.

What I did know, at least, was why they kept calling her Ekaterine. Ekaterine Kasun was one of the aliases Aunt Kathryn had used while working for the government (I'd eventually come to learn that for most of that time she'd worked specifically for SHIELD), pretending to be a Serbian immigrant, sometimes a nurse, while in missions either in the Middle East or Africa (it was one of the few aliases she'd apparently used more than once).

"She saved my life." Shuri said simply, before elaborating. "Spring of 1995, a group of black ops from one of our enemy nations, possibly Latveria, infiltrated Wakanda. In the past they'd tried to conquer us by force, but it never worked. I was about twelve years old back then, almost thirteen. We don't know if I was their target all along, or if they'd been sent after my father or my brother and they simply failed in that task. My bodyguards were killed, my mother poisoned and I was kidnapped. From what I've been told they intended to ransom me, they wanted vibranium... which isn't exactly news." The princess shook her head. "Ekaterine found me in Uganda. I know not what it was that alerted her to the fact that something wasn't right. She'd finished her own mission, whatever it might have been. She somehow knew that something was wrong, saved me from my captors, and then brought me back to Wakanda herself. Without telling her superiors a thing. Her knowledge of nursing, mixed with her experience as an agent also meant she had the missing piece to produce a cure for my mother. So you see, your aunt managed to save not only the life of the princess of Wakanda, but also that of its Queen, which in turn meant she also saved the King in many ways. Us royals, the Panther tribe and Wakanda as a whole owe her a life-debt that seemed impossible to pay back... until today."

"That's why you're giving me the cure." I realized. "A life for a life."

"That might halve the debt, but it doesn't erase it, not completely." She added. "I realize this might seem a bit soon but... you will be offered a chance, to gain citizenship, if you wish it. I truly hope you will consider it."

"What about my aunt?" I was intrigued she hadn't been mentioned in that instance.

"She has citizenship, has had it for over a decade." She pointed out evenly. "Though, for obvious reasons, no one outside of Wakanda has ever known."

It was probably obvious in hindsight. I didn't give her my response then, didn't want to seem like I wasn't giving the matter the consideration it deserved; though I'm sure we both knew in that moment what my answer would be.

 **xXx**

Four weeks later the cancer was gone, and I was legally Silbhé Kasun, daughter of Ekaterine Kasun, both of us citizens of Wakanda and part of the Panther Tribe (the same tribe to which the Royal Family belonged). I found it a bit odd, that on the day where I'd be usually celebrating the highest point of the Spring (for some reason I'd always liked and believed more in the 'wheel of the year' than the modern seasons), the Equinox, to Wakanda it actually marked the beginning of Autumn. It was also the beginning of the wet season.

While not everyone seemed to agree with two outsiders becoming citizens of Wakanda, we had most of the people on our side, even if it mostly was due to what Aunt... no, to what mom had done when I was a baby. I promised myself I would make her proud, as well as the tribe. So I dove straight into my studies. In the following year I'd learnt Wakandan, and the basics for a couple of other Bantu languages (and by that point I already knew more than half a dozen of other languages). At Queen Ramonda's and Princess Shuri's insistence I was sent to Oxford to study for five years, it was certainly an experience.

A week after my arrival to Oxford, Loki found me. I was kneeling on my small balcony (because I was sponsored by the royal family of Wakanda, I was given certain luxuries, like a room to myself); the first thing I'd done was buy a few roses and was trying to create a tiny garden, something that might remind of home (both of them, it was something mom had had built for me in Wakanda as well, while I was recovering from the surgery). I sensed the change, and then turned to find him standing in the middle of my room, examining his surroundings.

"Luka!" I cried out in delight as I rushed to him (I'd never say his real name out-loud).

It'd been more than a year since I'd last seen him, closer to eighteen months, and I was delighted to be seeing him again. Though that did not mean I forgot what he'd said about the risks of us meeting too often, of someone finding out about me.

"Is it safe?" I asked softly. "For you to be here?"

"It is." He assured me. "I cannot visit often, but I've made sure they won't be able to follow me. I will never do anything that may put you at risk, Nightingale."

"I believe you." I assured him.

"Why are you here and not back home?" He inquired, intrigued. "In your garden?"

I could tell he was looking at my poor excuse for roses. What I wasn't expecting was when a spell of his left them suddenly looking perfect. I didn't even know there were spells for such things!

"I'm enrolled in Oxford, for College." I explained to him. "I also don't live in the US anymore."

"I could tell." He nodded. "Why? What happened?"

I told him everything. Starting with the ill-fated vacation to Sicily, the yacht, the cancer... and ending with the eighteen months I'd been living in Wakanda thus far.

"Oh Nightingale..." He murmured, embracing me. "Great is my relief at know you're well, almost as great as my despair at discovering how close I came to losing you, and without being able to do a thing, or even knowing something was wrong at all. I knew not where you were!"

"Why not?" That confused me. "Have you never been in Wakanda, in Africa?"

"I've been to Africa, yes." He nodded. "I spent some time during my youth in Egypt, it was in the time of the pharaohs. Met men and women both great and terrible. As to Wakanda... I'm afraid that is not the kind of land where one as me can stride in uninvited."

"What...?" I wasn't expecting that.

"We Aesir are not the only gods to exist, Nightingale." He explained to me. "There are others, granted most exist no more. The ones your people call the Greek Gods depended on the faith of their worshipers, and when that failed, they were lost. It's actually how my own daughter, Hel, came to be in charge of the dead, after years of that realm being with no ruler, since the loss of Hades... Other gods chose to join their lives to those of mortals, such choices made them mortals, but it also allowed a part of them to live on, to this modern age even. The African gods did not mix their blood with humans, but they chose to pass on nonetheless, eventually. The power they left behind when moving on made a great many things possible, the magic that to this day hold the Sphinx and three pyramids of Giza is one such example. Another is the ward that keeps your new country free from interference from any 'outsiders' so to speak."

"So it's not only the isolationism." I realized. "There's more to it."

"I cannot set foot in a place like Wakanda without permission from its chosen guardian." Loki nodded. "And doing so would set off alarm bells neither of us are truly ready to deal with."

Which meant that as long as I was in Wakanda, I wouldn't be able to see him. And yet Wakanda was my country, even if I'd only been there for a year, I already loved it, loved the people in it, and I wouldn't give up on it, on them... Which meant that while I was studying college Loki and I'd be able to meet every so often (not too much, there was still a level of risk), but once I had to go back to Wakanda... we'd see.

 **xXx**

In 2012 things got messy. I finished my studies, earned two Master Degrees, one in Sociology and the other in Applied Linguistics, as well as an Undergraduate Degree in History (I'd also finished rounding my languages into a perfect dozen: English, Spanish, Irish (Gaelic), Norse, Portuguese, Italian, French, German, Greek, Wakandan, Swahili, and a little bit of Rwandan and Russian (the last one was an enduring headache with me).

I could remember a time when I'd wanted to study History and Folklore, European Literature and Mythology (I'd even sent applications to a number of universities in the US), how I'd planned to one day help Loki connect with our world, when the existence of the Aesir was revealed. I'd hoped that might earn me a place with them... all of that had been pushed aside.

Mom, Shuri and two Dora Milaje had attended my graduation ceremony and we'd gone straight to Wakanda afterwards. I was ready to serve my country in the best way I could. Things had been tense for a month, ever since the sky had opened above New York and aliens had poured out. It had been shocking, especially when some of the footage had revealed that none other than Loki was leading the invasion. What the hell had happened?! I had no idea, but suspected it could be nothing good. The last time I'd heard from Loki was a year prior, in May, just before Thor's would-be coronation; then my Maverick had confessed to me he'd planned on doing 'something' to show his father how wrong an idea it was to make Thor King, that the blonde wasn't ready. I never saw him again. Didn't miss the mess that had gone down in New Mexico, or the rumors that there had been a lot more going on than a crashed satellite and a military test gone wrong.

However, that wasn't the worst part; no, the worst part was that I'd no way of finding out more about the situation, not the one from the year before, or from weeks earlier; or even trying to help in any way. My love was in a heap lot of trouble, and there was nothing I could do about it! (Not that he even knew he was my love... and I so regretted not telling him that last night I had with him... what if I never got another chance?!) Still, there was just nothing I could do about any of that, so I somehow forced myself to push all that away, to focus instead on what I could do, and that was fulfill my duties to my tribe and to my country. So I went back to Wakanda and tried to find a place for myself.

It wasn't easy. Mom had had five years to find her niche, and the people had already loved her dearly before that. She worked as a nurse for the Panther Tribe, and even trained with the Dora Milaje whenever she could. She'd proven herself, as both a healer and a warrior, and they respected that. Me? I was a white girl, a member of the Panther Tribe who wasn't really a warrior, or a royal. None of them could really even see how my chosen degrees were supposed to help.

And then, completely by accident, I happened to be walking down a hallway when I overheard a group from Mohannda, who were there to do business, talking among themselves. They were talking in a mix of Rundi and Rwandan, and while I only knew the latter, I understood enough of Bantu languages in general to be fairly confident of what they were discussing, it wasn't good.

"Are you sure, Silbhé?" Mom asked, worriedly.

We were standing in Queen Ramonda's private sitting room, the three of us, as well as Princess Shuri and several Dora Milaje. I couldn't even think of a way to bring my findings to the King, or Prince T'Challa (who was the one actually dealing with negotiations), but I couldn't just keep quiet. Not when it was against my tribe and my country.

"I am, Ikumkani wam (my Queen)." I bowed my head at her. "It's... it's about more than just the words I heard. It's... it's in them, their presence, their aura. They wish to do harm to Wakanda, not through violence, but through a deal that will not help us. It might not seem obvious now, but I just know if this business goes through, we will all come to regret it."

"I believe her, umama (mother)." Shuri offered. "If Silbhé believes the outsiders wish harm to Wakanda through this business, then it cannot be allowed to go through."

I never knew what was said, exactly, between the royals. The businessmen were sent away by the afternoon, and soon it was made public that 'negotiations had gone sour'. It also eventually came out that the deal the group was trying to make, which would have required a group of Wakandan scientists working with some of their country, was but an excuse for some spying to be done into our technologies...

It was more than I imagined when I overheard a piece of conversation, but I'd been right.

That little event didn't exactly buy me a place in Wakanda, but at least the people began to accept that I was loyal to the country, to the tribe. That the color of my skin, my name, mattered little when compared to that. I saw it as a good start. I also made a point of mingling with other people more, trying to get them used to me, to stop seeing me as an outsider and instead as one of them.

Eventually I found a 'job' of sorts, and began teaching European languages to the princes and the Dora Milaje. They each knew some already, but were always interested in learning more. And so I came to be almost like their tutor (regardless of the fact that I was a decade younger than the princess, and that and a half more younger than the prince). I also applied myself to learning more African dialects (and to finish learning Russian once and for all), so I might be ready for the future, whatever form it might take. Every once in a while I'd remember Loki and wonder what had gone wrong with him; but I knew there was nothing I could do about him, I had to focus instead on the things I could do. All in all, it was a good life.

I learned to fight, of course; though defensive techniques only. Mostly because my duties meant that I was in the company of one or more members of the royal family most of the time, and it was considered a good idea, for both my own protection and theirs. Of course the fact that I was barely an inch over five feet tall didn't do much for me, but I still did my best. I trained hard with Teela, the only Dora Milaje who seemed to really like me. She was one of Princess Shuri's bodyguards, along with Nakia; she was also the leader of the Midnight Angels, a top-secret sub-group of the Dora Milaje, which I saw as their equivalent of the black ops.

Two years after my return to Wakanda, things changed again, in ways I could have never planned for. Shuri (she insisted I only use her title when necessary), Teela, Nakia and I were in the market. It was the day of the month when luxury items from other countries were on sale, and we were looking for presents for mom, her birthday was fast approaching.

When the attack came, we didn't see it coming. There were several small explosions, followed by a bigger one, something had apparently gone wrong in the fireworks stall. (And we'd been standing before it just a minute before! If we'd taken any longer...). Nakia and Teela rushed us away from the stall, letting other people approach to try and help those who'd been seeing to it.

"We need to call my brother, he'll send some help..." Shuri murmured.

She broke off as Teela hit the ground, hard, blood on her temple. By the time I realized something was very wrong, it was too late. I barely got a fraction of a second to see Shuri's betrayed expression as she fell, and then consciousness was robbed from me as well.

 **xXx**

I went from unconscious to conscious in a heartbeat, hand automatically reaching to a delicate-looking (but actually quite stern) silvery chain around my neck, from which a silvery pendant of a bird with its wings open hung. It was a nightingale pendant, a small, seemingly innocuous present that had arrived for me through a courier the day before my graduation. I had no doubt about who had sent it, and could even imagine why he'd chosen such a method to get it to me... still didn't explain had the hell had brought him to leading an alien invasion on New York!

It was a bit of a surprise when I woke up first. Shuri, even being a princess, was very much a warrior; there was a very good reason why she'd been chosen to be the next Black Panther once the current holder of the title, her brother T'Challa, had to step down. It was actually a bit of an anomaly that one man held the title of King, and another that of Black Panther (protector of Wakanda and leader of our tribe); but T'Challa didn't believe himself ready to hold the mantle of King, along with his other responsibilities; and King T'Chaka did not mind giving his son more time to get used to his current duties before adding yet another one.

In any case, Shuri was a warrior, literally the second best warrior of our tribe, and quite possibly of Wakanda as a whole... yet I'd woken first. Something told me that somehow, impossible as it might seem, the pendant was connected (not an impossible option considering who exactly had given -or sent- it to me).

I opened my eyes just a sliver, seeking to try and see something without any possible 'enemies' seeing I was awake. I also focused on my hearing. For the longest time I got nothing, and then the voices approached. One of them belonged to Nakia, and while one side of my brain was busy processing the fact that one of the Dora Milaje had apparently betrayed us, the other side was fully focused on the ones approaching, trying to learn as much as I could from them. It wasn't good, they didn't speak Wakandan, or Swahili, or any of the better known Bantu dialects, rather one of the more obscure versions. I knew enough dialects to piece together a few things, but not everything. What I did learn wasn't good though: Nakia was, indeed, a traitor. Only I wasn't part of the plan. Shuri was the target, she was supposed to help with kidnapping the princess, and then use her against King T'Chaka; I should have been left behind, like Teela, either that or killed. But Nakia had something against me (I'd no idea what) and so she'd taken me too. I just hoped that I'd be able to use that in my favor at some point.

Eventually the voices drew away. I waited until I was reasonably sure there was no one around and then, pretending to just be waking up, I sat up. I soon realized I was in a cell; or more precisely, a cellar or a big cupboard or something like that, that had been re-purposed into a cell. There was a single door, no windows and no way to open said door from the inside. I didn't bother with that. I also had no idea where Shuri was, only knew she had to be nearby.

The next few hours passed in a sort-of game. I took to speaking loudly, sometimes even calling out in every language I knew. Not stopping or changing it until I got some kind of response. I went in order of learning, was just about to try Russian, when the door was abruptly opened and two quite huge men stepped into my 'cell' (nevermind that I was so small). I gave a step back, considering. I was still in the exact same clothes I'd been wearing in the market, and since it was the middle of winter that meant a rather heavy floor-length skirt (brown with near-geometrical flowers printed in shades of purple), a brown long-sleeved blouse and knitted, dark purple shawl with some elegant designs in lighter shades of the same color. Dark leather boots finished my ensemble. My short dark-auburn hair was held somewhat loose, I was missing half the pins I usually put in it to keep it in place, but I consoled myself with the fact that it wasn't a complete loss. What no one knew was that beneath the skirt I was wearing leggings, that there was a thin, stiletto dagger hidden in my right boot, or that the pins in my hair doubled as either lockpins or lesser weapons as necessary. Not much, in the grand scheme of things, but still something.

I didn't even consider doing something right then, knowing that even if I took the big brutes down, I still had no idea where Shuri was, or where we were; I couldn't attempt a full escape without those two. So instead I adopted a slouched posture, making them see me as less than I truly was; as a small, helpless girl. Then Nakia appeared.

"What?" She asked, practically scoffed at me. "You're not even going to try and fight your way out? You're such a weakling... I told Teela you were unworthy, unworthy to be seen as an honorary Dora Milaje, and as a suitor!"

I blinked, I just couldn't help myself... suitor?!

"Think I'm stupid?" She challenged. "Of course I know. And I shall never allow an outsider, a white, weak little girl such as you to steal our Prince, to take our crown..."

She was absolutely insane! I could tell, by the way her volume went steadily up, the way she became angrier the more she spoke, that she truly believed every word she said. She thought I wanted T'Challa, wanted to marry him, to be Wakanda's Queen... that was ridiculous! I had nothing against him, of course not, but he just wasn't my type! (Also, I was very much in love with someone else already... even if no one, not even he, knew). Nakia also grew angrier as I failed to respond to her words. Next thing I knew I was going down, result of a rather vicious backhand against me.

It didn't actually hurt that much, the surprise far exceeded the pain. But I played it up, knowing that it was better to be underestimated.

The two brutes manhandled me out of the pseudo-cell, down several hallways (at times escorting me, at times pretty much dragging me... and what could I do? They moved faster than I could really keep up, for the most part). We eventually made it to another room, one that had three different locks, two of them that could only be outside, by the look of things. There was a window on the door, with thick, somewhat dirty glass, and bars. I was summarily thrown inside, with no care to the fact that my wrists were chained together, which in turn made balance difficult, causing me to fall almost on my face. The door was slammed close behind me.

"Silbhé!" I recognized Shuri's voice instantly. "Oh thank the Panther God you're alive! I thought you to be dead. Oh Spirits! Teela..."

"Teela's alive, princess." I interrupted her, not quite realizing I'd just interrupted the princess of Wakanda, my princess, until I'd already done it, I could only wince.

"She's alive!" Shuri was delighted by the fact.

"They had no interest in her." I shrugged slightly as I managed to sit up straight. "Actually, they only had interest in you... I was a bonus of sorts."

I managed to see her properly then. The princess was chained, much like I was, except she also had an ankle chained to a wall. Like a bloody animal! All my instincts screamed at me to fight. It was odd, because I wasn't a violent person. The second reason why I'd never been able to truly learn to fight, beyond defensive techniques, was because I simply didn't have the instincts for it. But in that moment my desire was to protect one I saw as dear to me, as family, and to achieve that I was willing to do anything.

Shuri was wearing a beautiful sunflower yellow long-sleeved, floor-length dress, with a strip of cloth in several colors of the rainbow falling down the left side of her body, and over her left arm. Another strip of similar cloth had been around her head, but no more. I could also see the tears in her clothes, it enraged me.

"Inkosazana (princess)..." I began, very softly.

"I've told you before, call me Shuri..." She murmured, just as softly.

"For this, I'll need to do it this way." I insisted, then switched fully to Wakandan as I recited: "Inkosazana yam (my princess), will you let me be your shield? Will you let me be your blade? Will you allow me the honor to serve you?"

They were words I knew well, words I didn't truly have the right to pronounce. I wasn't Dora Milaje, I could never be; but my princess needed someone to protect her. It was something I would do, regardless of any protocols. But I wanted her to see, to understand how seriously I took the situation we were in.

"I will stand behind your shield, I will guide your blade and I will honor your service with the promise to never betray your faith in me." She eventually responded the right way.

She didn't ask if it was truly what I wanted, she knew me enough.

Then we got down to talking. My little experiment the previous hours had provided me some very valuable information. The fact that those involved were from several countries, they had knowledge in a variety of languages; in fact, the only ones I'd gotten no response to, at all, was Irish and Norse. Thankfully Shuri knew Irish, so that meant we had a way to communicate without alerting others to what we were saying. I also knew what Nakia had given away, her belief of my intentions regarding T'Challa... I suspected that had influenced her decision of taking me along, though I still did not understand why.

"Nakia... she fancies my brother." Shuri explained after I said that (we were talking completely in Irish by then). "She always has. At first it didn't seem that bad. It's not like she's the only one to ever fancy him. Years ago, before we ever met you, my brother was in a relationship with an American called Monica Lynner. They were set to marry, until she broke off the engagement, for reasons known only to the two of them. A year before you came to us the two of them met again, one of our father's enemies tried to use her against T'Challa. It seemed like the romance might be reviving... until Monica disappeared under odd circumstances. Rumors reached me that someone might have gotten rid of her, in an attempt to 'protect' my brother. But I refused to believe such rumors. She'd already left him once, I believed her fully capable of doing so again." She let out a breath. "I'm not so sure anymore. Nakia... I would have never believed her capable of betrayal, and yet here we are..."

She broke off then. I knew what she was thinking, even if I couldn't really get my head around it. The Dora Milaje had always seemed like the example of unity, honor and loyalty to me, a very representative fraction of the whole of Wakanda, the envoys of each of their tribes... though perhaps that, right there, should have been a warning. After all, the tribes weren't completely united, they never had been. Though, thus far that hadn't seemed to really be a problem.

It was three days before we were faced with the one responsible for our kidnapping. I didn't say a word when she went in just ahead of Nakia. When she exchanged heated words with Shuri, my princess. I just stayed on the floor, beside the cot where Shuri sat, curled up on myself, keeping to all appearances like the small, weak girl our captors expected me to be. The princess didn't quite understand why I insisted on that, but didn't argue on it.

The two statuesque women only turned to look at me a moment before leaving. I didn't really understand the world that was said, but the widening of Shuri's eyes, and the half-snarl that seemed to abandon her lips instinctively told me it couldn't be anything good. I was right.

"They're planning to subject you to ritual combat." Shuri informed me the moment we were alone again. "One that will be transmitted, live, to all of Wakanda. Then they'll express their demands, while still holding me hostage."

"When are they planning this?" I asked, oddly calm, all things considered.

"Two days." She answered, looking at me oddly, like she didn't expect me not to panic. "They need to get everything ready."

"Two days..." I repeated absently, nodding mostly to myself. "Good thing I don't plan on us being here by then."

"You have a plan then?" Her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"I've had a plan practically since the moment I stepped into the room." I deadpanned. "But first I needed to understand more about our situation. I still have no idea where we are exactly, but I suppose that cannot be helped." That reminded me of something else. "Who was that?"

Shuri didn't really need me to elaborate. The question was obvious enough.

"Her name is T'Channa." She answered honestly. "This is something else that precedes your coming to Wakanda. Years ago she tried to get into the royal family herself, not by gaining my brother's regard, but by claiming to be of our own blood."

"What...?!" I wasn't expecting that.

"She claimed to be our half-sister." Shuri nodded, then made a pause before adding. "She's only a year younger than T'Challa."

The implications of that hit me like a bucket of iced water. Everyone knew how much King T'Chaka had loved his first wife, Queen N'Yami, the prince's mother, who'd died in childbirth. It wasn't that he didn't love Queen Ramonda, because of course he did, but it had taken him a long time to even consider the possibility of loving someone again... to then imply that he'd in fact been with someone less than a year after his first wife's death... it was ridiculous, beyond ridiculous, it was an impossibility!

"Exactly." I hadn't said any of it out-loud, but apparently I didn't need to. "Of course, Wakanda has good enough technology that it was child's play to prove her lie. She didn't like it. She'd hoped to have enough time to get people to like her, to believe her despite any tests; that didn't happen. As we later learned, her mother was of high-blood, member of the Ape Tribe; there was a time, when Father was younger, when the suggestion was made, for him to marry her in order to better secure Wakanda's peace; but father fell in love with T'Challa's mother, and Wakanda will never force one of its citizens into an unwilling marriage. Asya did not like that. When Queen N'Yami passed she pushed for a political match for a second marriage, even tried to get involved with the raising of T'Challa, at a time when Father was so drowned by grief... thankfully his own brother took steps. It was how Mother came to be in the palace, she was initially hired to help care for T'Challa. When Father eventually fell in love with her and made her his second wife..."

"Asya must have snapped." I nodded in understanding. "What about T'Channa, is she tribe?"

"She'd have been." Shuri admitted. "Her sire certainly was. A warrior of our own tribe, one of the candidates for Black Panther, the one that came closest to taking the title from Father, actually. Themba was a good man, gave his life for Father's, in the same battle that left our King unable to don the mantle of Black Panther again."

I knew what she spoke of. The battle where many warriors had died, where King T'Chaka had almost died. Prince S'Yan, the King's brother had taken his place as Black Panther, though had never allowed the tribe to see him as leader, or the crown to be anyone's but his brother's. It would take a few years, but eventually the day would come when T'Challa would take both the title of Black Panther, and that of tribe leader, while still leaving the one of King to his father. I thought it was a good thing, each man knew where they belonged.

"So, T'Channa is obsessed because she's not allowed to play princess, Nakia... pretty much the same except she wants to be bride..." I summarized, a wicked grin beginning to appear. "Do any of them realize how incompatible their aims are?"

Shuri blinked, it was possible the thought hadn't occurred to her before, we both laughed.

"So, you say we're getting out of here..." She commented off-handedly. "Any plans on how we're going to do that?"

"A few." I nodded evenly. "How good are you at climbing, inkosazana (princess)?"

"Trees?" She still seemed to be confused.

"It would be my preference, but I believe we'll be left climbing through the concrete jungle this time." I deadpanned.

That certainly served to give away what I was planning. If she thought I was insane (which I certainly thought I was) she said nothing, Shuri probably realized we didn't really have a lot of options. Time was running out.

We waited one more day. To better calculate the times between patrols, and to rest, for we both knew once we began running, we might not be able to stop in a good while.

 **xXx**

We escaped an hour or so before dawn. It was the best time, while it wouldn't take long for a patrol to realize we were gone, I was expecting that the late hour would make them slower; it'd also make it less likely for people to get in the way and in danger. We still had no idea where we were, but had to be ready for both a bustling city or an empty dessert.

As it turned out, it was a little bit of both. When the time came I shrugged off my long skirt, as it would only get in the way. I tore it into pieces and created a simile of a rope out of it, tying it to the most secure spot I could find, close to the window.

"I thought we'd be climbing." Shuri commented as she looked down.

"We are." I nodded. "I'm not even sure that thing would support our weight. It's meant to be a decoy. Hopefully those who see it will expect us to have gone down, to be on ground-level."

"And meanwhile, we'll be on the roofs." Shuri finished for me.

"Exactly." I nodded. "Time to go."

The window was broken already. She'd made sure of that the day before. Breaking it during what we passed as a tantrum. It hadn't been repaired, as our captors thought a bit of cold air would work well enough as punishment, they'd no idea.

So we slipped out, onto the ledge. It was probably the first time in my whole life that I was thankful for being so small. Shuri wasn't exactly small, but she was lithe and very nimble. We took advantage of that. Soon enough we were running.

As it turned out, we were in the outskirts of a city, and not just any city. We were in Alexandria. Something told me that it wasn't a coincidence. We had been moved through countries, and it wouldn't have stopped there; no, probably after my death they'd have moved Shuri again, most likely across the Mediterranean, to somewhere in Europe. A corner of my mind whispered Latveria; I wasn't ignorant to the animosity between both nations, though if Doom was really involved... then things might be bigger than I expected.

There was no time for us to focus on that. We needed to keep on the move. It took us three days, walking as long as our bodies could endure it, avoiding highways and places with too many people. We had no idea all the people that might be involved, and the only hope we had was making it to the Wakandan embassy in Cairo before we were found (Egypt was one of the few countries with such an embassy, considering that Wakanda was still pretty isolationist).

Of course things had to go wrong in the end, because why wouldn't they? We couldn't keep avoiding roads and people once we made it to Cairo. Less than five minutes after reaching the city we were running for our lives. The fact that our pursuers soon began shooting at us didn't help us any, either.

I saw from the corner of my eye the moment someone ordered the shooting to stop. They had probably realized that killing the princess of Wakanda wouldn't help them. The order didn't reach one of them fast enough, though. I saw the bullet... I didn't even think about it, the decision was made before anything even happened. Shuri was my princess, but more than that, she was my friend, the closest thing I had to a sister, I would protect her. So I dropped from the ledge I was on, sooner that I'd have otherwise, and straight into the path of the bullet. The pain with my back was pretty bad; the worst part though, was that the impact of the bullet was hard enough to throw me off course. Instead of dropping onto the rooftop were Shuri had just landed (from where she was staring at me, horrified), I fell off the side of the building, in the direction of the street. Thankfully the pain from the bullet-wound was enough to knock me out just a moment later (the last thing I wanted was to be conscious when my body hit the ground).

 **xXx**

Surprisingly enough (for me, especially) I woke up. I was still, not quite there, though I heard some voices in my vicinity:

"You did not tell me she was an Old Soul!" A low, female voice called intensely.

"Because I did not know!" A second voice, lower, almost dark, and full of authority, replied.

"Girls..." A male voice intervened.

I recognized that voice, it made me react before I fully knew what I was doing or saying:

"Sharifa? Kontar?" I mumbled, beginning to open my eyes very slowly.

"I am here, Rossi..." The same male voice murmured, softening as he spoke directly to me.

"Rossi?" The second female voice inquired, curious.

"Rossignol, the name by which my consort and I knew her, many lifetimes ago." The man stated, I sensed the moment when he turned his attention back to me. "The name in this life is Carter Hall. As, I believe, yours is Silbhé Kasun."

He did not mention Sharifa, not a new name, or anything else, I knew not to ask, and not just because of an instinct, as I usually did. In that moment I could literally feel the pain, like some kind of... something, simmering just beneath his skin.

And it wasn't just his feelings, I could sense the confusion, mingled with worry and relief from Shuri, and a mix of wonder and shock from the other young woman.

"The other girl you've heard is Kendra, she's my daughter." Kontar... no, Carter, informed me.

"So what? You knew Silbhé a lifetime ago?" Shuri wanted explanations.

"Not only her, Serrure as well." Kontar clarified. "Her consort."

His words pushed memories to the forefront of my mind, both new and old. My love, not just in one life, but in every life... though I only remembered two. And as shocking as it could have been (and in a way it most definitely was), to think about having once been an elven princess, falling in love with a prince of Asgard, marrying him, giving him a daughter, only to later on die at the hands of an insane, jealous bitch of an Enchantress... My focus wasn't really on that, though, I'd have time to fully incorporate the memories of my old life; no, in that moment my focus was on a more recent memory of mine, a beautiful reunion...

 _When I first recovered awareness of self I wasn't quite sure if I was dead or alive, finding myself surrounded by mists that seemed to defy the natural laws (in that I could see them but couldn't really feel them, most of all), pointed to the former. Then, as if that thought weren't bad enough, I heard a voice I knew all-too-well, right behind me:_

" _Nightingale?!"_

 _I spun around, only then noticing the fact that I wasn't wearing the tight, warm clothes I'd been wearing during our crazy run across Egypt for three days; instead I was wearing a sleeveless, floor-length princess-style pale-lilac gown with a white sash, thin soled, white slippers on my feet; also, my hair felt a bit longer than I usually kept it._

" _Loki?! Wha...? How are you here...?!" I was in shock (the fact that I'd gone down while running across rooftops for my life, and trying to keep someone I saw as a sister safe probably wasn't helping matters any). "Where is here?!"_

" _The edge of Helheim... you shouldn't be here Nightingale..." Loki murmured, moving to stand before me, but not quite reaching to touch me._

" _I sussed as much." I nodded half-absently. "I got shot... I think I might have died."_

" _I know." He nodded grimly at me. "I sensed it." He signaled at the pendant I was still wearing. "I put a lot of protective magic on that pendant, it was intended to keep you safe... it wasn't quite enough this time." He shook his head. "You aren't dead though, someone managed to pull you back before you could fully cross over."_

 _There was something he wasn't telling me. I knew it, could sense it somehow, I could almost feel the anticipation in the air..._

" _That cannot be all." I said out-loud. "Me almost dying would explain my standing on the edge of Helheim, but not you. What's happened to you, my Maverick?"_

" _I've been here for a while." He admitted with a slight shrug._

" _What?! Why?!"_

" _Got sentenced to the pit after the events in New York. Unsurprisingly, no one bothered to ask why I did the things I did... I'm the monster after all..."_

" _You're not a monster!" The words were out of my mouth before I could think better of it, and certainly louder than I ever intended (not that regretted either)._

" _Nightingale..." He began, obviously surprised by my vehemence._

" _I mean every word."_

" _You cannot know that. There are things you don't know about me, about what I am..."_

" _I know all that matters. I know who you are, my Maverick, that's all that really matters."_

 _It was then that he finally caught onto something._

" _Yours...?"_

" _Mine." I didn't allow the embarrassment to control me. "If you'll allow it."_

" _There's nothing I'd wish more... but there are things you need to know first."_

 _He told me then, everything. His plan to show Thor's true colors, how wrong it had gone, Thor's exile, the Allfather falling into the Odinsleep, Loki's own unexpected chance to be King, the way everyone seemed to be waiting for him to show he was a monster. And the reason, the fact that he was no Odison, not by birth; no, instead he'd been born the son of Laufey, King of the Jotuns..._

 _I was actually rendered speechless the moment I wanted his skin change before my eyes. From pale alabaster to dark indigo, with darker tribal-like markings. His eyes went from jade green on white to oil black on red, and they stared straight at me, as he waited for my judgment. My reaction was instinctive, as I raised a hand and traced his face with just the tips of my fingers. His shock was such he didn't even try pulling away._

" _You're amazing..." I breathed. "You change so much... yet not at all." He looked at me like I was crazy. "Yes, your coloring is completely different, but beneath that it's still you. I can still see you Loki. You're still the same man... and yes, I mean man, I care not about the specifics of your genetic code... You're still the same man I've known for years, the man I love..."_

 _I didn't quite see him move, but from one moment to the next I found myself in his arms, my body cradled against his chest... he held me like I was precious, and so very fragile, yet at the same time kissed me with enough passion to melt ice... it certainly melted his skin, back to the image I knew better of him._

" _When I went back to Wakanda... after the mess in NY and everything else, all I could think was how stupid I'd been not to tell you I loved you." I admitted very quietly. "That last day we had in Oxfordshire, when we went to the theater and the private dinner... I should have told you then, but I was too afraid. That you might think me too young, that I might not be enough... then the nightmares... there were nights when I thought you dead, and my heart broke a little more each and every one. And now you're here..."_

 _I'd no idea where the words came from, but suddenly I was hearing them, and something told me it was the right thing to do, so I began echoing them:_

" _I promise you that from this day on, you will be my only one. I shall look at no other the way I look at you, I shall think of no other the way I think about you, I shall talk to no other the way I talk to you, I shall desire no other the way I desire you, and I shall with no other the way I lay with you. I shall be with no other for you are now and forever shall be my one and only; my friend, my lover, my partner, my match..."_

 _I was vaguely aware of the ribbon-like filaments of colorful light, almost like solid magic, that seemed to burst from inside my very soul and then latched onto him. I could feel them, deep inside; a connection. There was something missing, though I couldn't pin-point what, and I had no time for it, as Loki was calling to me:_

" _My Nightingale..." He whispered, voice a mix of awe and confusion. "Are you aware of what you just did?"_

" _What felt right." I answered simply._

" _Those were the Ancient Vows." He explained. "You just tied yourself to me, not just for this life, but for every single one..."_

" _Wouldn't be the first time." Yet again the words were out of my mouth before I could stop and think about them (not like they felt wrong or anything)._

 _His eyes narrowed, and for a moment I thought he would deny it; in the end he did none of that, instead he entwined our hands together, left to left and right to right. Our bodies forming a vague infinity symbol, though I wasn't really focusing on that. Because right then all my attention was on the words coming out of my love's mouth:_

" _I promise you that from this day on, you will be my only one. I shall look at no other the way I look at you, I shall think of no other the way I think about you, I shall talk to no other the way I talk to you, I shall desire no other the way I desire you, and I shall with no other the way I lay with you. I shall be with no other for you are now and forever shall be my one and only; my friend, my lover, my partner, my match..."_

 _As the second set of ribbons burst into existence and then bound us together, this time from him to me, I felt something settle deep in my soul. That was what I'd been missing. And yet, even as the bond took, a corner of my heart kept insisting it wasn't the first time I felt like that. I'd felt it before... just like I'd pronounced those vows before. And then it came... all of it: it was probably a good thing we were holding onto each other, probably the only reason we didn't collapse the moment the rush of images, sounds and feelings hit us both. It was breathtaking, a whole lifetime worth of moments, of experiences. I'd been right, that wasn't the first time we'd pronounced those vows, we'd been together before, had always been meant to find each other again._

 _As the memories fit themselves into the back of my head, a particular one called my attention: one that was in no way romantic, yet meant so much more, to me, but especially to my match:_

" _You need to talk to your family, love." I told him softly. "I know so much has gone wrong, but it's not their fault. Not yours either. You need to really talk to one another."_

" _What's the point?" He scoffed. "They don't remember anything!"_

" _Neither did we, until a minute ago..." I reminded him calmly. "I have a feeling things are about to change, a lot..."_

" _I will try." It was the best he was ready and willing to promise me._

 _For a minute or so neither of us said a word, we just stood there. Internally sorting out things, memories, trying to better understand them, and what they meant for each of us. There was one thing I knew for certain, though:_

" _I cannot just leave." I told him quietly. "I love you my Maverick, you know I do. But Wakanda, King T'Chaka and his family... they've just done so much for me... I will not forsake them."_

" _I know you won't." Loki assured me. "You wouldn't be the woman I love if you did." He kissed my hair tenderly. "But promise me you'll take better care of yourself, my beloved. I do not want our next meeting to be in this realm again."_

 _I had to agree with that completely. Much as I loved seeing him, I did not want to get so close to death any time soon._

 _One (other) good thing came from being in Helheim though, I got the chance to see my beloved light, my darling daughter again... that made it worth it._

"Are you back with us, Rossi?" Kontar's... no, Carter's voice brought me back to the present. "Should I call for a doctor again...?"

"I'm here Carter." I muttered, taking a deep breath before slowly opening my eyes. "And the name is Silbhé, nowadays. I haven't been Rossi in centuries."

I saw him shrug. I could imagine the reason. He'd lived so many lives... separate names had probably become a bit superfluous to him.

A couple of feet behind and to a side of him was a young woman (a girl, really, even though I probably looked young and small, I was confident she was younger), in an off-white long sleeved blouse, khaki pants, tanned-leather ankle boots; her eyes were dark brown, almost golden in a certain light, her straight, ebony black hair was half-covered by the long, black scarf wound around her neck, the same I imagined she used as a veil while out in the city.

"That is my daughter, Kendra." Carter informed me evenly. "The last gift my Shayera left me before she was lost to me, again..."

"You'll see her again Kontar." I told him, purposefully using the name of his other life.

"You sure about that?" He arched a brow, almost challenging.

"Matches cannot be apart for long." I stated confidently as I sat up.

Shuri went to help me as I was doing that, and it was then that I could finally look at her. She was wearing black pants, a long-sleeved tunic-style forest-green blouse, black boots, and a gray scarf around her neck.

"Oh Inkosazana yam (my princess), how happy I am to see you!" I didn't even notice that when I began babbling, I did so in Wakandan. "I was so afraid something might have happened to you..."

"Something mi..." Shuri interrupted me, before breaking off herself, I wasn't quite sure if she was dismayed or outright livid. "You almost died Silbhé! You almost died and it was all my fault!"

"No Shuri." I forced myself to focus. "Not your fault, never your fault. My choice."

"I take it back." She stated abruptly, completely serious. "I don't want you as my guardian, no shield, no blade from you, not if that means I will end with your blood in my hands. I'd rather have you as my sister, by my side."

"Being your sister would be a great honor to me Shuri..." I purposefully used her name to show her I was serious, and not just saying things because they were the right thing to say. "But you must know that even a change in title wouldn't stop me from doing everything in my power to keep you safe. I don't do it out of duty; it's my choice, a choice I would repeat time and again, without any regrets."

"And if you died?!" She demanded.

I didn't dare answer. Just the day before I would have said it would have been worth it, and not hesitated for a second. And while a part of me still believed that... there was another that was aware (oh so painfully aware) of what my loss would do to some people: to mom, as we were the only family the other had left; to Shuri, for whom I'd have died; and most of all, to my beloved match, we'd only found one another once again...

Shuri just nodded, seemingly taking my silence as enough of an answer.

"Don't throw your life away, ever." She stated seriously, before crushing me in a hug.

It hurt a bit. I was still considerably sore. While I hadn't actually hit the pavement, like I thought I would when the bullet threw me off course, and the bullet-wound itself hadn't killed me, thanks to all the protective spells on my nightingale pendant; I still hadn't walked away scoot-free. As I later learned, it was Kendra who saved me. She and Carter had become aware something dangerous was going on and went to check it out. Donning the beautiful golden-brown wings that had once belonged to her mother, she had been the one who caught me. The angle had been a bit off though, and we'd collided with a bit more force that recommended (and while she had a degree of enhancement, which allowed her to be mostly unaffected, such wasn't the case with me... I'd felt it all. Still, I would heal, which was more than I could say would have happened if I'd actually hit the ground so...).

 **xXx**

Things got really interesting the following days, if I did say so myself. Shuri and I discovered that we'd been kidnapped a total of five days; then there had been the three days we'd spent running across Egypt; I'd spent a full day unconscious in the Hall's house. Even when I woke up, could speak and move I was still seriously week, so it was really no surprise that we'd to wait until the end of the week to go back to Wakanda.

T'Challa and mom arrived to Cairo but hours after I woke up. Having been informed of where we were and what had happened as soon as Shuri could get her head on straight (apparently she'd been more than a bit hysterical when seeing me fall). And that was when things got really, really interesting. T'Challa and the Halls knew each other! And not just that, Kendra was promised to T'Challa in marriage.

Not an arranged marriage, of course not, I knew Carter would have never allowed something like that. They were a match. Apparently T'Challa had spent some time in the US (both before and after Monica Lynne). He and Kendra had met at some point, but she'd been too young. Still, the two of them knew they were meant to be together, and while it had taken them a while to deal with everything that implied: Kendra, initially feeling like her choices were being made for her, and T'Challa, fearing their difference in ages to be too great. Things had gotten better. The two really had a lot in common, and their differences only allowed them to complement each other beautifully. Shuri already loved Kendra like a sister.

Kendra was still young, though, nineteen years old. She had two years to go before she was finished with her schooling, she was aiming for a Master Degree in International Relations, with an Undergrad in Law, to help. The plan was for her to do that, and once she was done, she would be moving to Wakanda, joining the panther Tribe and taking a year to get to know her new country and people before marrying T'Challa and officially taking her place at his side.

Another interesting development was when I discovered I'd acquired several tattoos, seemingly overnight. First (and more importantly), was the black one that formed a claddagh ring on the base of my left ring finger: the best kind of wedding band I could have ever asked for. Second was the runic 'bracelet' of sorts that went around my right wrist; Nordic runes, the main of which was a double infinity in a black ink that looked almost green in a certain light, that one seemed to have been almost engraved on my skin, rather than just painted on it, it was on the inside of my wrist. The last one was a bird, a nightingale, only the colors were much darker than the real birds, blue and brown, shades so dark they looked almost black; that one was in the nape of my neck, just high enough to be mostly hidden by my hair. The first two I understood easily enough, the third... I was confused until I remembered something my Maverick had said right before I left his side to return to the real world:

" _It would seem the gods like you..."_

He'd run a finger down the back of my neck as he said that too... I just hadn't realized there was any special meaning beside the words. Thinking he meant himself, rather than a deity from a different pantheon... the tiny glyph for guardian painted on the half-extended wing explained that part, at least.

Also, I did not know it then, wouldn't know it for a while, but T'Challa, Shuri, Kendra and Carter went hunting, while I was recovering, with mom by my bedside. They went after those who'd tried to kill us. Their intention was never actually to kill them (though I was later reassured that, had I been permanently hurt, or worse, their response would have been much stronger). Still, by the time they tracked down the place where we'd been they found only the remains of a massacre, one caused by Doombots (Lady Doom, was what T'Channa was called... and wasn't that telling?). All the thugs were dead. A fight still broke out, and in the end T'Challa was more-or-less forced to kill Nakia after she knocked Shuri down and tried to hurt Kendra. T'Channa fell off the bridge where they somehow ended and into the Nile... hard as they tried they couldn't find the body (though they suspected she wasn't dead... she was too crafty for that).

So yeah, quite the interesting few days, all things told.

 **xXx**

We got the warmest and cheeriest reception I could have ever expected, when we got back to Wakanda. I certainly wasn't expecting it when, dropping any and every sense of protocol and royal decorum, Queen Ramonda practically rushed in our direction, and then she went to embrace not Shuri, but me, tightly.

"Ikumkani wam (My Queen)..." I gasped, not having been expecting that, at all.

"Thank you..." She whispered straight into my ear, also in Wakandan. "Thank you so very much, intaka encinane (little bird)..."

The moment she saw those words I knew she'd seen the tattoo on my neck.

"Welcome home," King T'Chaka was suddenly beside his wife, looking at me with so much love I was speechless. "Intomba (Daughter)..."

I couldn't find words, could hardly breath, I recognized the offered in that single word, and it was more than I'd ever expected or even imagined possible. All I could do was bury myself into the kind Queen's embrace and hope they'd be able to sense what I'd no words to express.

It was how I became Lady Silbhé, adopted daughter of King T'Chaka and Queen Ramonda, foster sister to T'Challa and Shuri, and as such Princess of Wakanda myself.

A month later a courier delivered a package, from Egypt. Inside I found a leather-bound journal, it was a true work of art, and I suspected it must have been handmade. There was a short letter attached to it, from Carter; he wished me the best (made a couple of jokes about me being the one with the royal title this time around... of course, he didn't know that I'd had one in my other life as well...), he also informed me that the journal was actually from my match, he was just passing it along. I found the explanation for that written in beautiful calligraphy I knew very well, in the first pace of the journal:

 _ **My beloved Nightingale,**_

 _ **You were right, I'm sure you'll take great delight in learning that. Things have, indeed, changed. No one knows how exactly, but you and I weren't the only ones to recover our memories. I awoke to find myself, not in the pit, but back in my rooms. Eir had been looking over me, none of them seemed to be quite sure as to why I reacted so negatively to my stay in the stars-forsaken prison. Not until Erynion and Thenidiel arrived, and reminded everyone of the need Ljósálfar have for the stars... and the fact that I am very much bound to one. They send you greetings, their best wishes, and express a hope to see you again someday. And yes, my love, they're bound now. Your muindor (brother) is happy.**_

 _ **Everyone remembers you, and they remember me as well, who I used to be before I lost you, who we used to be together. Sif sends her best wishes for your current life as well. As do Ylva and Fenrir, they came to see me as soon as things settled down for the most part. Worry not, no one knows where you currently dwell, or the name you bare, I've made sure they will not be able to find you, until you choose to step forward yourself. I know you're happy with your life, and wish to keep it; something we both know the Allfather would not allow, were it in his power. I know we will be together again one day, when the time is right, there is no need to rush... for the time being, this journal will be our means of communication. I've spelled it, it's one of a set. Whatever you write on it, will appear on its twin, which I shall always keep on my person. We haven't consumed our bond in this life, which makes it impossible for us to share dreams now, but I hope this will serve us well, until the time comes for us to be together again. Worry not, my beloved, I understand the reasons behind your choices and support them, and you, completely; I always have, and always will.**_

 _ **Yours till the last star falls out of the sky, your Maverick.**_

I smiled, wide. Shuri, who was standing right beside me, having been curious about the package, smirked at me:

"Good news, usisi omncinci (little sister)?" She asked, laughter in her voice.

"The best." I answered honestly, hugging the journal tightly to my chest.

As soon as I could I was sitting at the desk in my new bedroom (the others had insisted that, with my legal change in status, I should move into the Royal Wing of the palace). I took out my favorite pen, and after thinking for a moment what I wanted to say, I began writing:

 **Hello my love...**

* * *

So? What do you think of this fic thus far? I hope you'll like it. The whole Civil War thing will come up in the second part actually, and like I said before, I don't actually plan on touching that in the main timeline, or in most AUs... but this fic being about Wakanda, and probably the fact that I've read way too many Civil-War fics recently (either fix-its or follow-ups) has affected me. Also, just pointing out that I'm Iron Man Team through and through, though here things are different enough that won't matter much.

Like always, full-sized cover and set of wallpapers can be found in DeviantArt, I go by Princess-Lalaith there. That's it, see ya in two weeks.


	2. Princess

Here we are! The second half of this fic. This, and a part of the next AU, is the closest I plan on ever getting to the Civil War. Really, that movie makes me hurt so much... Like I think I've said before, I am Team Iron Man all the way, and I just have a feeling that, whatever might happen in 'Infinity War', he will not be getting justice for everything that's been said and done against him. I also happen to like T'Challa a lot, which is what I actually showed in this particular fic.

The Wakandan comes from Xhosa, which I believe is Marvel's base for the language (I used google translate, so if everything's wrong, I'm sorry).

The names from the Dora Milaje come from wiki, though of course they're not exactly as they were in the comic.

The song in this chapter is "Hand of Sorrow" as sung by Within Temptation.

And that's that, on with the chapter!

* * *

 **Princess**

There always comes a time, when we must stand by what we believe in.

Time passed. In 2015 we all watched how all laws of physics and nature were broken during something that Loki told me was called the Convergence. We also watched footage of him and Thor battling against an army of what I recognized had to be dark-elves (I could hardly believe what I was seeing... they were supposed to be extinct! To have been for five thousand years!). In the end the battle was won, and the damage wasn't as bad as it could have been. I hated not being there to see my love, but at least the journal made our distance easier (or at least less hard) to bear. And the world kept turning.

At some point an unexpected discovery was made. I could use magic. It began accidentally. One evening I was walking through a construction zone and there was some accident several levels up, which caused dirt, timber and even rocks to fall our way. Nareema, the Dora Milaje assigned to my protection, had done her best to push me away from the danger zone. I landed on one knee, spun and screamed in denial, not wanting her, or anyone else to be hurt; and suddenly there was a dome surrounding us all, translucent, with a lilac-ish tint to it, I could feel the rocks and pieces of wood as if they were falling on my own skin, only not as badly as I'm sure they'd have felt in reality. I managed to keep the shield up long enough for the people to get out of the way, and the moment I breathed out in relief, it flickered out.

That was just the beginning. As it turned out I was changing, in ways no Wakanda scientist could fully understand. Carter suggested it might be related to my past life. I did realize something though, the magic I was using... it was Loki's. I was channeling his power (we thought the tattoo of his symbol was connected somehow). It took a while, but eventually I learned to use it. It was too late for it to be a secret inside the country, but the people were so close, so loyal, they made sure no one outside our beautiful country would ever know. I was their princess, their guardian... and they loved me. It filled me with pride and humility all at the same time.

In 2016 Kendra Hall graduated with honors in her chosen fields. We were all right there to watch her walk across the stage to receive her diploma. The next day we were on a plane to Wakanda, where she was introduced, first to the Black Panther tribe, and later on the rest of the country as T'Challa's intended. Not everyone loved her straight away, but with time and a little effort she managed to earn the love of her tribe and most of the country. The two of them were married in early fall of 2017.

Carter Hall passed away a month afterwards, and while we all paid our respects and followed the funerary rights and the mourning period as expected, in private we celebrated. Because a good man was at peace, and back with his match. Carter knew his daughter was safe and loved, and that was why he could finally let go, answer his soul's prayers and move on, to where he might finally be joined to his True Love once again. As sad as his passing might be, as sad as death might always be, a part of me was also happy for them.

By the summer of 2019 things had gotten pretty dicey on a world-wide level where it came to heroes and the way they were viewed by average people. It might have started in midsummer of 2016, with the disaster that ended with the utter destruction of Novi Grad, Sokovia. We were there afterwards, as part of the relief efforts (like we'd been in Johannesburg before), part of a foundation mom had created in Wakanda, meant to aid other nations in need (it was meant to be the beginning of the end of Wakanda's isolation). There was so much destruction, a complete city totally obliterated, so many dead and the survivors... the survivors were almost worse, the pain, the loss, the near-emptiness in their eyes. It hurt something deep inside of me.

I sang a lot during that time. Sang for the children, to help them sleep, to try and comfort them after their nightmares, to try and instill hope in them, that not all was lost... I know not how helpful I was in the end, though some did thank me for my intentions. 'Songbird' they called me (since we weren't giving our names, at King T'Chaka's insistence, for our own safety, and so as not to call unneeded attention onto ourselves).

There were those who believed the unrest had actually begun in May of 2016, with the revelation of HYDRA within SHIELD; everything that was dumped on the net out of the blue... It was fascinating, terrifying and sickening, all at the same time. I couldn't begin to imagine who ever thought something like that was a good idea (whoever did certainly did not stop to consider all the innocents...). All the people whose lives must have been destroyed (the undercover agents who suddenly found themselves outed, the people who'd unknowingly done things for Hydra and found the world turning against them out of the blue, those who might have suffered yet endured it until learning it wasn't worth it).

In the end I did not know which of those was behind the unrest; though I certainly rather it be either of those, and not, as some people believed: New York. Because if we'd been headed down that road all along... what kind of hope was there for the future?

When Father (he insisted on me calling him that, and a part of me really liked doing so, having more people to call and consider family) first brought the Accords to us, just after the anniversary of the tragedy in Sokovia, I wasn't sure I liked the idea much. I could see the need for something like that (though I was sure not everyone would), but I just kept getting terrifying images of all the ways things could go wrong). Still, I loved, respected and trusted Father too much to push the Accords away as a whole, so instead we all sat down together and got to work on them. I also took advantage of my little journal and consulted with Loki a few times, he just had a way with words... My previous life as a princess even turned out to be useful, as I found loopholes and ways to cover them without making the whole Accords seem like chains. They were meant to give security, to both the average humans and the heroes, not to restrain either side.

Eventually, when we had something that we trusted enough to work, we took it to the UN. It took a little while, and some refining here and there, but soon enough 117 nations were adding their voice to the Accords (half of them had actually wanted something harder, stricter, but in the end were willing to give the accords a chance). I didn't know when the document became the Sokovia Accords, exactly; though I did know some people were using that tragedy to push them through. I didn't much like the man who seemed to be in charge of most of it, the American Secretary of State: Thaddeus Ross. I'd researched the man, after first hearing his name, and there was a lot about him I did not like; but he was American, and I was Wakandan (technically I still had both my American and British citizenships, but my life was in Wakanda, and I took that seriously). I was hopeful someone would eventually get enough on him to take him away and put someone better in his place.

The addition of Tony Stark to our group actually helped us a lot. As the sponsor and second in command of the Avengers he carried weight in getting something like the Sokovia Accords to pass. He also seemed to know Ross, know how to deal with him, something we were probably all thankful for.

We were all stressing out over the upcoming conference in Vienna, Austria (marked for the 31st of July of 2019, exactly a day after the second anniversary of Sokovia), where the ratification of the Accords was supposed to take place, when tragedy struck.

Mom and a group of volunteers from the Kasun Foundation were in Nigeria on a mercy mission when they ended, completely accidentally, in the middle of a fight between the Avengers and a terrorist known as Crossbones (who, unknown to some people was former SHIELD/Hydra Agent Brock Rumlow). Things got really bad, half of the volunteers died in the explosion that marked the end of the confrontation, and most of the rest were badly injured... mom herself was badly injured, many said it was a miracle she survived.

 **xXx**

We made it to Vienna, more than a little stressed out. I knew that we all felt like we'd rather be in Wakanda, with mom (who'd yet to wake up, though the doctors assured us she would, that she was out of danger) and the other injured. But the Accords were too important, and we'd been a part of them from the beginning, we couldn't just ignore that. Also, Father could be a hard man, when he felt his people were at risk, and he was certainly feeling it after Lagos; the rest of us were needed to balance him out.

Thankfully, most people weren't really paying any attention to me. They had enough of a party with King T'Chaka, Crown Prince T'Challa and Crown Princess Kendra. To almost everyone who looked at me I was simply the King's attache, his PA basically. Even the few who might know my name: Silbhé Kasun, had no way of knowing I was the adopted daughter of King T'Chaka, and effectively Wakanda's youngest princess. We all preferred it that way.

Ayo, Aneka, Okoye and Nareema were the only Doras with us, which they obviously did not like. Under normal circumstances, while out of Wakanda each of us should have had two of them guarding us. But the nature of our presence there... Kendra had been the one to bring it up first, insisting that too many bodyguards would have made it look like we didn't trust the UN, and we were supposed to show we were all working together; and much as we might not admit it, we all knew she was right, so the number of bodyguards was halved. Probably the only reason they had not gone nuts at the very idea was that they knew how capable both T'Challa and Kendra were as warriors, not for nothing they were the Black Panther and the new Hawkgirl. Father was past his prime, but not defenseless, and even I knew enough to look after myself.

Even after the kidnapping, I could never be truly considered one of the Dora Milaje, and I knew not to take it as an insult. I wasn't a member of any of their tribes, and while I called the Black Panther Tribe my own, it just wasn't the same. Also, a princess (even an adopted one) just wasn't supposed to be a bodyguard (though we all knew that in a real emergency I was ready and willing to serve as a last line of defense).

We greeted Tony as soon as we arrived one of the few people we knew, and the only one we actually liked. Then T'Challa and Kendra approached Miss Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. My brother was curious about her, had been since we'd seen the footage of her in Capitol Hill after the Hydra reveal and the mess in Washington D.C. And Kendra, of course, would always follow where he lead. As their first official event outside of Wakanda since their marriage, they were presenting a united front; they were, after all, the future King and Queen of Wakanda.

I shadowed Father silently, observing everything, fingering my tattoos almost convulsively (it was a tick sorts I'd developed, whenever I was nervous); something was coming, I could feel it, could sense it like some kind of pressure in the very air I breathed. I just hoped to be ready if/when the hammer fell...

Miss Romanoff apologized for what happened in Nigeria, and I could barely hold back the flinch at the reminder. Which made her eyes turned to me.

"I really am, sorry, Miss Kasun..." She murmured, inclining her head to me.

I did not ask how she knew my name, it didn't really surprise me, she was a spy after all.

"I hope the Accords might allow us to prevent other such tragedies in the future." I said as evenly as I possibly could.

"I was sad to hear Captain Rogers would not be joining us today." Father commented then.

"Yes, so am I." Romanoff agreed.

Our little conversation was interrupted as a voice on the speakers asked for everyone to take their places, the assembly was about to begin.

The beginning was quite boring. With all the introductions and the protocols, speeches of our hosts... and then Father was introduced and called to the podium. As the acknowledge creator of the Accords, he was the key speaker of the event. I followed him of course, though keeping a respectful distance away; T'Challa and Kendra, for the part, stood, though while remaining on the other side of the room; showing support yet not wanting to crowd King T'Chaka.

I could tell T'Challa was bored. He'd never been exactly a fan of diplomatic events. There was a reason why he was known as the Warrior-Prince, while Shuri was the Gentle-Princess, the one whose diplomatic skills were greatly admired.

"When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we, in Wakanda, were forced to question our legacy." Father's speech was well-rehearsed, every word, every inflexion, and it showed. "Those men and women killed in Nigeria, were part of a goodwill mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative. Wakanda is proud to extend it's hand in peace."

The change in mood was so sudden I couldn't help but tense. One moment T'Challa had been completely bored, and the next... it was like he was about to jump into a fight, and then...

"Everybody get down!" He screamed, even as he made to run in our direction.

"Silbhé!" Kendra's own scream sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins.

I hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on; I just knew one thing for sure: something was very, very wrong... following my instincts I spun around, threw my arms out and cried out:

"Algiz!"

The word wasn't technically a spell, it was actually a rune. But since the magic I wielded wasn't my own, but Loki's, I sometimes needed something to guide that magic, to show my intent in a more direct way than mere thoughts; I'd chosen runes, because they were something I understood and could easily connect with magic. Algiz in particular was the rune for protection, concealment and opportunity... so quite appropriate, really.

The translucent off-white/lilac tinted shield materialized at my fingertips, a fraction of a second before all windows were blown up and the black smoke of an explosion came at us. I could feel it striking at me, at my power. I could almost stand it... almost... a second sound of glass breaking preceded my failure, and then the dark smoke swallowed me and I knew no more.

 **xXx**

The first thing I felt when waking up was confusion. Not about waking up, thankfully, I hadn't been that bad off. I knew my shield had managed to deflect most of the power behind that explosion, and even what did hit me was lessened considerably thanks to my pendant. It couldn't stop me from being thrown threw the air, or losing consciousness (though I had a feeling that could be more connected to me being drained of power, than any actual damage), but that was alright. Even before opening my eyes I paid close attention to my body, aside from a few sores and what felt like slight contusions, everything was fine. All but one thing, or two: first, I couldn't hear Nareema in the room; even silent as all the Dora's were, I should have been able to hear her breathing; and second, I was sensing another presence in the room.

"Maverick..." My preferred nickname for him crossed my lips before I was even fully conscious of even thinking it.

"I really don't like this, Nightingale." He murmured, taking one of my hand in both of his (the one that didn't have a needle in it). "I hate you being here, so vulnerable, so hurt..."

"I'm fine." I answered automatically, then thought of something else. "Father..."

"The King is alright." My love assured me. "Some bumps and bruises, but healing remarkably fast already, I didn't even have to offer any Asgardian means to help him along. He's in the next room, sleeping, the lady-warriors guarding him tell me it's normal and that he shall recover in a few days. His worst injury was a sprained knee and a broken wrist, but both will heal in due time. You need not worry Nightingale."

"We had less than three seconds of warning." I muttered, breathing deeply. "T'Challa and Kendra were so terrified..." I swallowed. "They've gone hunting, haven't they?"

I knew them well enough; and while Kendra wasn't quite as bloodthirsty as her husband could get... family had been hurt, both Father and I could have died, if I didn't have the power I did, the blessings I did. And it all happening so recently after the thing at Lagos...

"They were gone by the time I got here, but that is the Warrior-Ladies' belief." He nodded.

"And talking about the Dora Milaje." I quipped with a half-smile. "Where is Nareema?"

"Outside the door." He smiled back at me. "I convinced her you were safe with me..." Something in my expression must have told him I didn't believe that to be the whole truth. "Fine... and your Father might have told her that it was alright."

That sounded more like Nareema.

Something occurred to me then. I didn't even allow myself to think too much about it, in the end I just followed my instinct, pulling my match to me and swallowing his wordless exclamation at the sudden move with a hungry kiss.

We kissed for a long time. Hungry, passionate kisses, followed by slow, tender, almost playful ones. A hospital wasn't the place to consummate our bond, of course not (especially not with Nareema at the door and Father in the next room), but just kissing was enough for the time being. And afterwards I found myself cuddled into him, somehow managing to fit the two of us in the narrow bed (it helped that I was so small). I fell asleep at some point.

 **xXx**

I woke up again to the hissing, arguing voices of Nareema, Aneka and Loki, even before being able to understand what they were saying, I knew something was off, and then:

"They were shooting at him!" Aneka practically snarled.

"Who was shooting at whom?!" I demanded, instantly sitting up, pushing the vertigo aside almost viciously and forcing myself to focus.

"The CIA task force." Aneka spat. "The ones sent in to capture Barnes for the explosion. They fired upon him, and upon our prince and princess."

"Wha...?" I wasn't expecting that. "But why?" Something else occurred to him then. "How do they even know Barnes has anything to do with it?"

"There's video footage." Nareema explained, calmer than Aneka, as she showed me the video.

The video lasted just a few seconds, and I couldn't help but arch a brow.

"Really?" I asked, unable to help my absolute disbelief. "This is truly the best proof they have? That could be practically anyone beneath that jacket and hoody! Even the best facial recognition software... even our facial recognition software couldn't possibly gather enough points for a definite identification!"

Something else occurred to me then, and then I was sitting on the bed, feet off the edge, forcing my head to stay with me, as I prepared to stand up, even as I looked around trying to think where they might have left my clothes... until I realized that, with the explosion and all, the clothes I'd been wearing the day before were probably useless.

"Inenekazi lam (my lady!)" Nareema and Aneka cried out in unison.

"Nightingale!" Loki cried out at the same time, teleporting just in time to catch me before my legs folded beneath me and I fell. "What are you doing?"

"I need to get out of this bed, out of this room." I stated, using him to hold myself up.

"You're still recovering." Aneka tried to insist.

"There's no time." I insisted, then looked them both in the eye as I added. "Someone just shot at my brother and his wife, someone just effectively tried to kill the future King and Queen of Wakanda. It doesn't matter if they didn't know who they were. We all know Father will never take this lying down. This is exactly why I'm here, to balance him out. I need to be there."

I knew they didn't like it, probably hated it even, but they knew I was right. So much had gone wrong, we needed to find a way to fix things, before worse came to worst. I also suspected that the window for managing that was small, and getting smaller...

An hour later I'd gotten a change of clothes consisting of two layers: a light-gray pant-bodysuit with a high neck and sleeves that were separate and left my shoulders bare, though they went all the way to just beneath my fingers, and a band holding it under my feet. The 2nd layer consisted of a pale-lilac dress, in which the upper half was exactly the same as the bodysuit (though no sleeves), while the lower was a loose skirt with a slash down the front, allowing the lower half of the bodysuit to be seen if I moved a certain way, it also went to just above my feet on the front and trailed an inch or two in the back; a thin white sash marked my waist and the ensemble was finished with white ballerinas, which gave me a bit of a more elegant look. My hair was pulled back in a half-twist with a bird-shaped clip that combined all colors of gold (leaving just enough hair down to hide my bid tattoo (the others were concealed beneath the sleeves).

Father dressed in one of his suits, and as soon as the paperwork was done (the doctors at the hospital didn't like it, but in the end we signed ourselves out) we were on a helicopter en route to Berlin. According to the reports, the special team were on their way already, they had Rogers, Barnes, Wilson, as well as my brother and sister.

I was right. Father was angry. I was also right that my presence helped calm him at least a little, if only because he didn't want me to see him out of control. I just hoped my presence would be enough once we got to Berlin...

 **xXx**

We arrived just as they were being brought in:

"You will be provided with an office instead of a cell." The blonde man in the gray suit was saying to my brother and sister. "Do me a favor, stay in it."

"I'm not intending on going anywhere." T'Challa stated, probably trying to be pacifying.

"No, you're not." I spoke up as the six of us joined them (Loki was staying invisible for the time being). "Things are messy enough already."

"Usisi Omncinci (little sister)." He greeted, before turning to our Father and lowering his eyes in shame. "Utata (Father)..."

"Oh unyana wam (my son)..." Father let out a breath.

I had a feeling he probably understood, at least to a point, why T'Challa and Kendra had done what they did. He might not like it, but he understood it.

"Your Majesty." The man greeted Father with a respectful bow, before looking at me and adding, a bit unsure: "Ma'am...? I'm Everett Rose, deputy task force commander."

"Lady Silbhé." I introduced myself. "Adopted daughter of King T'Chaka and, as such, princess of Wakanda. You, of course, have already met my Father and siblings."

"My lady?" He bowed his head at me. "I'm afraid none of us were aware you were part of the Royal Family, when you arrived..."

"I know." I nodded calmly. "I'm afraid that was done on purpose. Not due to any lack of trust or trouble on either side, but simply because I insisted on it. I believed it would be easier if you only needed to worry about three of us, rather than four." I took a deep breath before I remembered something else. "Also, your people, shooting at my brother and sister, not the best choice they could have made, and certainly not one either my Father or I appreciate. I understand their mission was hard, and that some people had been injured, badly even, by that point, but lethal action is supposed to be the very last option, not the first."

He nodded at me respectfully, though I knew he didn't appreciate my words. It was part of being a princess, people felt less able of expressing themselves sincerely, especially if they knew (or at least suspected) their opinions to be against me. Behind him I could see the others, the agents and the so-called Avengers, watching me with mixed feelings, a mixture that, in almost everyone included a high amount of disbelief, some doubt and even surprise.

"You're the one who called on the shield..." Natasha breathed out. "The one that saved us."

"I conjured a shield to protect my Father." I answered, a bit more stiffly than entirely necessary, though the attitude still smarted. "That others benefited from my actions was fortunate."

"How did you do that?" Stark wanted to know.

"Magic." I said, with a rather blasé shrug of my shoulders. "It's a gift I have. I don't have a lot of power, but can do a few things."

"How did we not know this?" Ross wanted to know.

"But you did." I said serenely. "To a point at least. Like my brother and sister, I signed the Accords. Under the fourth amendment."

"Fourth Amendment?" Rogers and Wilson asked, practically in unison.

I couldn't help my own disbelief at them.

"Did you even read the Accords?" I blurted out at them. "Before pushing them aside, I mean." Perhaps not the most diplomatic way to express myself, but I took offense to the way they (he especially) refused to even try to work with us, we'd tried so hard with those Accords... "The fourth amendment... I like to call it the guardian clause. My brother and sister, just like Dr. Stark" I knew how much he hated being called Mr. Stark, like his father, but it didn't feel right to just call him Tony. "Miss Romanoff, and others, have signed the Accords as warriors. They're willing to fight to protect the people, to protect our world. I have signed as a guardian. It means that if I have to, I will fight, but it's not my priority, or even really my desire to do so. My wish is mainly to keep others safe, to help them when I can. That's what I use my gifts for. I've done it before, in Sokovia... You may or may not know this, but my mom is Ekaterine Kasun, she created the Kasun Foundation to do exactly that, help."

"The Wakandans in Lagos..." Sam blurted out in surprise.

"Mom was there, leading the group." I answered the unasked question. "She was badly hurt, just woke up earlier today."

It was true. The news had reached us just before our arrival to Berlin.

Nothing more was said then, and somehow we all found ourselves in the same conference room (though I had a feeling it wasn't supposed to be that way, not originally), from where we could watch the video-feed of what was going on in the detention level, with the Winter Soldier...

Not much happened at first, I half-heard Rogers and Stark arguing, something was really wrong on that front. Stark was trying so hard, it was almost painful to see (and to sense), yet Rogers... he was like a wall, unwilling to see the truth right before his eyes, unwilling to understand, to compromise. He was definitely going to make things harder than they had to be.

I saw a man arrive to the containment area, he was there to evaluate Barnes' condition, mentally, at least. I couldn't pay much attention to them though, as the exchange between Miss Carter, Stark and Wilson kept pulling my attention, and I knew it wasn't only mine, the others were listening to them carefully as well. Didn't get the chance to ask exactly what was going on, as right then the lights went off, and not just in our room, but in the whole building.

Ross, Stark (who'd left at some point after his argument with Rogers), Romanoff and many other people were in the next room (visible to us through a glass wall). Talking loudly and practically above one another, trying to find out what exactly had gone wrong, and fix it. None of them were getting anywhere.

Rogers and Wilson were gone almost before Carter gave them the signal (and I had no idea what to think about a woman in her position who was so evidently compromised, and in favor of one who'd showed he was so unwilling to see the big picture...). Stark was gone but seconds later, and then so were Carter, Romanoff, and even T'Challa and Kendra.

I didn't run, instead I turned to look at Father in silence, he knew what I was thinking. For a few seconds he didn't say a word, instead he approached me, held me by the back of the neck, lightly tracing the tattoo we both knew was there, then he kissed my brow.

"Go." He whispered practically against my skin. "Stop this madness before it gets worse."

I gave a single step back, bowing my head in thanks to his blessing, then jumped in place, disappearing from the room before my feet touched the ground again.

It took me a couple of seconds (and three steps sideways in quick succession) to get my footing. Not surprising considering that I wasn't really seeing where I was going as I teleported, relying entirely on visualizing what had last been on a screen on the next room before calling on my (Loki's) magic to get me there. Shadow-walking would have been safer, but it was also slower when it came to such relatively short distances; as I needed to basically walk there, instead of effectively jumping through the fabric of space (it was insane, and I wasn't sure that I got all the theory behind the different methods of transportation right, I just knew what I could do and which techniques were best in certain circumstances; the rest were just details).

I spun around then, the man who was supposed to be the UN assigned psychiatrist had just said a couple of words in Russian that a corner of my mind whispered meant 'Longing' and 'Rusted', which made no sense whatsoever; then again, Barnes near hysterical reaction to them made even less sense. Both of them had frozen the moment I appeared in the room, though.

"Who are you?!" The 'psychiatrist' demanded sharply.

There was something very wrong with him. A darkness in his heart, formed by terrible grief and more hate and rage than I'd ever sensed in anyone else. I didn't need to be cognitive to deduce he wasn't the UN psychiatrist.

"Lady Silbhé, princess of Wakanda." I announced flippantly, sliding a foot back as I got into a defensive stance, ready for a fight. "Who are you anyway? Because something tells me you're not Dr. Theo Broussard."

"I am not." The man admitted, holding tightly onto a strange notebook with a red cover that was in his hand. "This isn't your business, princess. You shouldn't have gotten involved."

"You know, your face looks somewhat familiar." I commented, following a hunch. "I bet that with the right clothes you would look a lot like a certain someone we both know. I mean, put on a cap and a hoodie, it'd be easy enough!"

He almost flinched backwards, that was all the answer I needed.

"It would seem you're a bit too clever for your own good, your highness." He almost growled at me, he obviously didn't like that I was pulling at his plans.

"Been told that before." I deadpanned.

I wasn't stupid. I knew he was still dangerous, but I was just buying time. Got just enough, as the door flew open right then (no one seemed to notice that someone had given them a hand in getting it open so fast, not even Rogers). The man (whom I'd eventually learn was called Halmut Zemo, Sokovian, seeking to destroy the Avengers in revenge for the loss of his family) turned immediately, probably looking to fight back. I acted instantly, practically jumping at him, taking advantage of his distraction with the newcomers to rip the red book off his hands, before slipping it into those of my love, who sent it into a subspace pocket, where it would be safe, at least for the time being.

Zemo spun back towards me instantly, throwing a punch at my face. I crossed my arms before my face, blocking him. A moment later Rogers was pulling him back before effectively throwing him against the nearest wall.

"Who are you?" The Captain demanded, a hint of desperation in both his aura and his voice. "What do you want?"

"To see an empire fall." Zemo replied.

I knew it then, he was living-dead. His body was alive, even his soul was still there, but his heart wasn't really in it. Only his terrible plans, his perverse goal kept him going; without that he had nothing, he was nothing. He refused to accept that he'd lost, though a part of him knew it. Whatever it was he intended to do with those words he'd been pronouncing when I arrived... it was too late for that plan. And without that he'd nothing.

Wilson took over then. Taking Zemo and pulling him away, directing him straight to Miss Carter and the team gathering just outside the containment area. Most people were actually looking at me, obviously more than a little shocked at my presence.

"How did you get in here?" Romanoff asked, doing a double take as she arrived and her eyes eventually landed on me too.

"Magic." I deadpanned.

"Bucky!" Rogers cried out right then.

He rushed to his friends, and none of us missed the way he began tracing the containment unit. He wanted to get his friend out. He really understood nothing of what was going on!

"You shouldn't be here..." The Captain was muttering. "You're innocent!"

"Don't be stupid Steve!" Surprisingly enough, it was Barnes himself who called the blonde on his idiocy. "You have no idea what almost happened. What that man wanted to do..."

"What happened?" Agent Carter asked, honestly interested.

"He wanted to activate me." Barnes hissed. "He knew the words. He wanted to make me into Him, into the Winter Soldier..."

"How the hell did he know how to do that?" Romanoff demanded.

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps it has something to do with someone's stupid decision to dump everything SHIELD and HYDRA related straight into the web without caring who ended affected, or even dead in the process." Kendra said right then in her most contemptuous tone.

Romanoff and Rogers really flinched at that one, something told me my sister wasn't the first to call them off regarding that particular foolish choice.

"There's one thing I want to know." Stark stated, calculating. "How exactly did whatshisname get in here in the first place?"

That question certainly threw everyone into a tizzy... we were going to have a very long day yet.

 **xXx**

I was right, of course. Hours later people were still arguing. Rogers was still refusing to sign the Accords, refusing to even read them. Wilson had actually taken my comments seriously, enough to read the damn document, and after being reassured that he'd get the chance to discuss some points he didn't fully agree on (something that was even written down and signed so he knew we wouldn't be ignoring his misgivings), he signed; Rogers seemed particularly put out by that. Maximoff hadn't yet made up her mind; but we all knew the matter of her citizenship was far more urgent than her signing or not the Accords. I also knew that once the Avengers had signed, the document would be offered to the other well-known teams: like the Fantastic Four (even though they were mostly retired and had been for years) and the X-Men, and then it'd be up to the lesser known heroes (like Spider-Man, Daredevil, and whoever else might be out there) to join. The Avengers were supposed to be the beginning, the example that it was alright to sign... but that would be hard to prove if someone as public as Captain America kept refusing to sign. I honestly had no idea what to say to him anymore, wasn't sure anyone did.

That particular argument was eventually pushed aside, at least for the time being. As they all began discussing how Zemo had gotten into the building, nevermind the containment room. All the workers had been rounded up and were being questioned to find out where things had failed, but there were no answers yet. One good thing came out, though. Everett Ross had somehow been convinced that Barnes wasn't responsible for the bombing, and that he was willing to stay put until the task force got everyone behind it; so he'd been lead to a more comfortable office, rather than a cell. There was a lot to discuss yet regarding the Winter Soldier's crimes, but there would be time for that, it just wasn't the priority in that moment.

Things got more stressful when the existence of other Winter Soldiers was revealed. Everett Ross seemed to be about to have a heart-attack, and I could sense Secretary Ross making plans to himself, the kind of plans I knew would end in nothing good. I knew it would only put me even more in the spotlight, but I just couldn't keep quiet.

"Unless you want a certain Secretary we both know, and I'm sure neither of us likes, to end up with his own private death-squad I suggest you get a team to collect those frozen Soldiers, and you do it stat, Mr. Ross." I told him quietly.

"You really think he'd do that?" He asked, though I could tell he didn't exactly doubt me.

"From what I've found out about him it wouldn't even be the first time he tried it." I shrugged. "Though I have a feeling this could go much, much worse."

Ross nodded at me, acknowledging the hint, before going straight to arrange a team. Carter and War Machine were off soon enough, with a special team, with strict instructions to retrieve the Winter Soldiers, and make sure they didn't wake them up. If that proved to be impossible the soldiers were to be killed and the facility taken down. I didn't quite agree with the rather careless attitude they had regarding the lives of those Soldiers, but kept the comments to myself. It wasn't something I could get involved in, I had to choose my battles. And I'd chosen one.

No one quite understood why I wanted to go in to see Barnes. Rogers actually had the gall to get all defensive. Like I was some assassin, or a Hydra sleeper.

"With all due respect, Mr. Rogers." The man so did not deserve to be called a Captain, he most certainly wasn't acting like one. "I'm not asking you. Whether I meet Mr. Barnes or not, it's not up to you. You're not his minder, or in charge of this facility. The latter which is the reason why I'm asking Mr. Ross."

"Why do you wish to see him?" Ross, for the first time since meeting me, sounded respectful, he was also evidently curious.

"I've explained before that I have magic, I can do a few things." I tried to explain, though not quite sure how to do it. "I use my powers to help people... there's one thing I can do that I think might help Mr. Barnes. I cannot explain it beyond saying that I sing, and when I do, my voice carries power. I've done it before, to bring relief, to offer comfort... I wish to grant him some peace, especially knowing what Mr. Zemo intended."

"Are you sure this will not hurt him?" Ross wanted to be sure.

"It's not a power that can be used that way." I assured him. "It might help him, or it might not do anything at all, but it certainly won't hurt him."

"Very well." Ross nodded eventually. "But the guards will stay."

"Of course." I agreed immediately.

It was obvious Rogers still didn't like it, but we ignored him.

Barnes didn't even raise his head, when I entered the office where he remained. Not until I sat before him, on the opposite side of the table. The office had a glass-wall, one way glass, and I knew the guards, Ross, and perhaps even Rogers, were looking at us from there, but I paid them no mind, I wasn't there for them.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Barnes." I greeted him kindly.

"Your voice sounds different." He commented out of the blue. "Your accent has changed."

I offered him a bottle of water I was carrying and he took it gratefully. Though he didn't look away from me, probably waiting for an answer.

"I hadn't noticed." I admitted calmly. "I know over a dozen languages, began learning them young enough that I don't have much of an accent with any. Then in college, as I learned about Linguistics and History and many other interesting things, I learned the importance of accents, the way they help you belong... it became normal for me to adopt an accent when I feel it's right. Earlier you heard me talking with a Wakandan accent, I do that when I'm trying to show I belong there, though it's not always a conscious choice on my part. Right now I have no especial wish to belong anywhere, hence no accent."

"Interesting." He nodded. "Had never seen it that way, though I suppose it makes sense. Explains how it is that the Soldier always spoke with a Russian accent, regardless of what language he spoke, while mine is more American..."

"That is, indeed, an interesting way of seeing things." I agreed.

I was concerned about the way he referred to himself in the third person; wasn't sure if it was a full personality disassociation, or if it was a defensive technique, an attempt to distance himself from the Winter Soldier's crimes.

"Why are you here, princess?" He asked me, evenly.

"I want to try and help you, Mr. Barnes." I told him honestly.

"You a shrink too?" He practically scoffed.

"Not at all." I shook my head. "Like I mentioned before, I studied Linguistics and History in university, I also have a thing for languages... I only took the necessary credits in psychology, and wasn't very good at it anyway." I shrugged. "I've found that what the so-called experts believe about the mind, doesn't always fit with what some people might actually be like. After all, people are a lot more complex than books could ever comprehensively explain." I shook my head, that so wasn't the point. "No. You've heard me say I have magic. I can do a few things with it. Like yesterday in Vienna, where I managed to conjure a shield that deflected most of the explosion Zemo caused, probably saving a few lives. I used that same magic to get into the containment area when everyone else was having trouble doing the same."

"What's the point of all this?" He interrupted me, obviously not liking my speech.

"There's one other thing I can do with my magic." Well, there were a few others, but one that actually mattered in that moment. "I sing..."

"What? You want to sing me a lullaby?" He scoffed.

"I doubt lullabies are your kind, perhaps something heavier." I quipped, then got serious again. "Magic is in me, in all of me. That includes my voice. When I sing... things happen. Sometimes I can help people find peace, sometimes I can help them understand themselves, or others. I cannot fully control how things go every given time, but I've found it can help, if people are willing to really listen to me. Would you be willing to listen to me Mr. Barnes?"

"Do you really think you can help?" He sounded disbelieving, yet there was a hint of hope, so very small, yet so bright...

"I think I can try." I didn't want to offer any guarantees. "Will you let me try?"

He shrugged. I could tell he didn't want to believe me, not because he thought there was anything wrong, but so much had worked against him, so many things had gone wrong... he was probably afraid to get his hopes up. I understood that.

I didn't insist, instead I simply extended my arms over the table, palms up, offering them to him, waiting for him to make his choice. It took almost a full minute, but eventually he decided to take the chance, putting his hands in mine. It felt like someone pressing a live-wire into my skin. The shock so great I had to make use of all my training not to pull back, to even wince. I didn't know if he'd felt it too, but I held onto him, to keep him from pulling back himself. It took a couple of seconds or so for the shock to clear, and then the energy began flowing, the emotions...

Being the reincarnation of a Ljósálfar meant that I was an Empath, I could always pick up on other's feelings (among other things) touch heightened it, and it also allowed me to take the energy of the other person, to channel it... so I just closed my eyes, let go, and began singing:

"The child without a name grew up to be the hand

To watch you, to shield you or kill on demand

The choice he'd made he could not comprehend

His blood a grim secret they had to command"

"He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life

He prayed for both but was denied"

"So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed

Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?

So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?

Will all our sins be justified?"

There was so much power in my voice as I sang, more than I'd been expecting, and I knew it was because of the strength James Barnes possessed. I'd been honest, when saying I'd done such things before, though never so directly (with a single person) and especially not with someone that had the kind of powers Barnes possessed (and with that I meant more than his being a super soldier). Even as I sang I got glimpses into his life, first as the kid in Brooklyn, then as a soldier, as a Howling Commando, and finally after that fateful fall and what followed, his service (forced, tortured) to Hydra. I couldn't begin to understand how a man, any man, could survive so much.

"The curse of his powers tormented his life

Obeying the crown was a sinister price

His soul was tortured by love and by pain

He surely would flee but the oath made him stay"

"He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life

He prayed for both but was denied"

"So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed

Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?

So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?

Will all our sins be justified?"

Tears were falling from my eyes and running down my face, I knew it but I didn't mind them. I'd never been the kind to regret my own feelings, or try to hide them (it was perhaps part of being empathetic, to be enough in touch with emotions, my own and other's to have no fear of them). The song I was singing was strong, full of so many things, I wondered if everyone else could pick up all the nuances in the words, even in the way my voice changed through it. And then... and then something happened that I could have never expected, I was still the one singing outwardly, but to my ears... in my head and my heart, it was another voice saying the words, a voice I knew very well, that of my beloved daughter, the light of my life (and her Ada's), my dearest Helena...

"Please forgive me for the sorrow, for leaving you in fear

For the dreams we had to silence, that's all they'll ever be

Still I'll be the hand that serves you

Though you'll not see that it is me"

I saw it inside my head, as clearly as I was still seeing James Barnes sitting before me: a younger, less scarred (not physically, but in ways that counted just as much) James, laying on a cot in the middle of a place that looked like a cross of a lab and a bunker, strapped down... and then Helena strode in, dressed in black, scars clear on her porcelain skin; she spoke to James, straight to his soul. She laid out his situation, and offered him a choice: the end of his suffering, death and peace on the Other Side; or life, a life that would be full of trials, of hardships, of pain, and yet also of brotherhood, of happiness, of love. I need not seen the end of that exchange to know his choice. James Barnes was so strong, a true warrior... and he deserved to find peace in life. I had no idea how, but I promised myself in that moment that I'd find a way to give him that peace, somehow...

"So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed

Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?

So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?

Will all our sins be justified?"

I didn't know it in that moment, but my song effected more than just James. To him it did give him peace, more than anyone could have ever expected (after a very controversial test in strongly controlled circumstances we'd discover that somehow I'd managed to erase the conditioning, the way a certain list of words were used to control him). But it went further, because somehow Rogers began to understand that James Barnes wasn't Bucky, and never would be again, but that didn't mean they weren't still friends; Everett Ross began to believe that things were more complex that they seem, that even if the Winter Soldier might have killed dozens of people, that did not mean that James Barnes should have to pay for crimes he did not choose to commit (and the same probably applied to the other Soldiers as well).

Even when I found out about all of that I had no idea how any of that was possible. I'd never fully understand how my magic worked when I was singing, other than knowing that my voice carried power, and that I could use that power to help others. I was happy I managed that though, it was enough for me (even if I never understood the how, in the end that didn't matter much, certainly not as much as the fact that it had really worked).

 **xXx**

I took a short cat-nap. Not something I planned, exactly. I just happened to tire more than I expected with a single song. I woke up later in the evening, to find people working together more than I had expected it to be possible just hours earlier.

"You're a miracle worker, usisi omncinci (little sister)." T'Challa commented with a little grin.

"But all I did was sing!" I tried to explain. I hadn't done that much!

"A song everyone in the building has heard by now... and many people outside it as well." He commented with an almost mischievous grin.

"What?!" I certainly wasn't expecting that one.

"You're a youtube sensation." Kendra commented flippantly.

I had no idea what to say to that. I'd never planned on something like that and yet, and yet it was helping. James was out of the office, people were seeing him and not running terrified, or trying to subdue him. Even Rogers seemed to have calmed down some. He still refused to sign the Accords, but according to Stark he was willing to listen to us, to discuss things before doing something drastic. Or he would once he'd actually finished reading the document, and the list of amendments we were already working on.

Ross approached us to quietly let us know that his team had made it to Siberia, had found four men and one woman, all in cryo. They were being transported to a top-secret base where they expected to be able to work with Barnes in hopes of waking them up and helping. James had already accepted and when I was asked to be around and perhaps do for them what I'd done for Barnes I could only agree. It was what I always wanted to do after all: help others. Before the end of the day I'd given the man my number and I was officially registered as a 'consultant' with the UN and the people in charge of the Accords.

We also learned that Everett Ross was being promoted, he'd be taking over from Secretary Ross (who actually was in no way related to him) as the man in charge of the Accords, while the Secretary was being sent back to America, where he'd probably be facing court-martial. It would seem that the group that had gone to Siberia to retrieve the soldiers had met with a black ops team sent by the Secretary, intent on 'collecting' the frozen men and woman. They'd also learned about the existence of an underwater prison called the Raft, which Secretary Ross had outfitted to 'contain' super-humans (superheroes), something that was nowhere in the Accords, and he had no authority to do. Yeah, he was definitely not in a good place. Stark was also taking advantage of the opportunity to bring up everything he'd ever gotten on the man, he was going down.

Finally the time came for us to leave the building. Arrangements had been made for rooms in a nearby hotel, we'd be leaving for Wakanda in the morning. I could feel Loki's eagerness almost in every cell of my body. It was probably what distracted me, made it so I failed to notice the danger. Then again, no one really did (it had been a long day, after all).

We all heard the shot before either of us understood what had happened, and I was falling before I truly understood that I'd just been shot, in the back...

"SILBHÉ?!" Several voices screamed at the same time.

The shock was big enough that my love actually manifested in the real world and didn't notice until my brother placed a hand on his arm. Thankfully T'Challa, despite never having seen him before, somehow knew who he was, he didn't try to push my love away (which wouldn't have gone well, at all). And not only that, but when someone made a comment about him he said it was my husband: Luka Hvedrungr, recently arrived from his own work, and acted like everyone should have been expecting him. Like it was perfectly normal for him to be there despite the fact that no one had seen him before; the people around couldn't help but react to that, and suddenly everyone was acting like his sudden arrival was perfectly normal.

There was a bit of a scuffle, I could hear it but couldn't really see, I was on the ground, fighting to breathe through the shock, the panic and even the pain (though, as my mind began clearing I realized that there was a lot less of that last one than a bullet to the back warranted). When it was all over Kendra told me that it was actually James Barnes who found the shooter (being a sniper himself it was probably to be expected) he took the man down before another bullet could be fired and practically dragged him to where security had gathered: it was none other than (Former) Secretary of State: Thaddeus Ross...

"I will kill him!" T'Challa practically roared.

"You will not." Kendra stopped him with obvious effort.

"He will face justice, you can be sure of that." Stark tried to pacify him.

By the hisses coming from the Dora Milaje, and the tension in Father I knew they agreed more with T'Challa than they did with Stark and Kendra. I knew I had to do something. By that point I had finally calmed down enough to process what had happened, and a few very important details: I wasn't dying, I wasn't bleeding: the bullet hadn't actually pierced me.

"Help me up." I called, in a voice that allowed for no questions.

Kendra and T'Challa were surprised, though my love hurried to do what I wanted.

It took several seconds, but soon enough I was standing, my back was stinging something fierce, and I was sure I'd be feeling it for a while, but that was alright, I'd deal.

"Silbhé?!" Everyone looked at me, shocked, even my own brother.

"You forget what it is I'm wearing, ubhuti omkhulu (big brother)." I chastised him gently.

I could tell the moment they understood it. All Wakandans at least. Stark and the others were still oblivious, but at least the ones who really mattered understood it then. The attire I was wearing that day, it wasn't just pretty, it was also safe, because the under-layer, the gray-bodysuit, was lined with a vibranium mesh. It wasn't quite as strong as the one in the Black Panther suit, or even in the Hawkgirl battle-attire; I had still felt the impact, I was sure I had a big bruise, and would have it for a little while, but I was alive, and that was good enough.

I wasn't actually thinking on what I was doing when I approached the spot where a group of CIA agents were restraining Thaddeus Ross; but the moment he laid eyes on me, the moment he realized I was standing there, strong and whole, he completely lost it. I didn't quite pay attention to his tirade but he certainly confessed to a great many crimes, more than any of us had been able to find proof about), he also began yelling about his plans, for an army under his control (not America's, his own). It would certainly be more than enough to send him to prison (a legal one) for a very, very long time.

"I am glad to see you well, princess." Everett Ross said with a respectful bow of the head.

"I'm a bit sore, but nothing life-threatening." I admitted, careful as I move.

"It is perhaps fortunate that the one Ross chose to target was so well-protected." Wilson commented, only to backtrack a second later at the growls from my brother and the Dora Milaje. "Not that I'm saying she deserved it! But at least she's alive, will be alright. None of us would have been as lucky."

He was actually right. While my brother's and sister's armor was better, they only wore those when they fought. They'd taken it off after arriving to Berlin. I was the only one wearing armor of any kind in that moment so yes, it was probably lucky that I was the one targeted first. Really, if he knew I was the one to tell Everett of his plans that would explain his hate, but I wasn't the only one he'd reason to despise, at the very least Stark, Rogers and Barnes should have been on that list as well... Stark in particular should have been higher. I probably would never know why he'd chosen to shoot at me first, but a part of me might even be thankful that he had, we'd all survived and he was caught, what was there not to be thankful for?

 **xXx**

My love and I consummated our bond that night. It probably wasn't the best of times, with the rest of my family sleeping in rooms across the hall, the Doras arranged through the rest of the floor, but what had begun as a massage to help erase the soreness had soon turned into making out, and from there it was hard to stop; particularly because neither of us wanted to stop. It wasn't even about the sex, not really (not that it was bad, but it went beyond physical pleasure); it was finishing what we'd begun the day we pronounced the Ancient Vows, when our souls met in the edge of Helheim. It was feeling secure in our bond, in the knowledge that, no matter what happened, we'd be connected. The journal was good, but all along we'd been craving more (I believed we craved what we'd had before, the full bond we knew we could share).

The next morning I slipped into a beautiful off-white sleeveless, floor-length dress (it looked either ice-blue or the palest lilac, depending how the light hit it); my hair was down, the shoes were the same from the day before, and as a finishing touch I was wearing a set of jewelry that my love told me was a wedding present from his mother, it consisted of a necklace, earrings and diadem. I wore no bracelets, allowing the tattoos on my right wrist and the base of my left ring-finger to be visible. Only the bird remained hidden by my hair.

What I most certainly wasn't expecting, was the first thing I heard Father say when I joined the rest of my family for breakfast.

"Tell your match I want to see him." He stated calmly.

I stared at him dumb-founded for several seconds, not quite knowing what to say. Thankfully I need not say anything in the end, I just felt the warmth through my dress the moment my beloved stepped out of the shadows and right behind me.

"Your Majesty..." My love murmured with a respectful vow

He probably could have used Wakandan, taking the knowledge from me through our bond, but he respected Father too much to do that. Something unexpected occurred to me right then; the fact that, in this life, I had a father Loki would have to answer to, such hadn't been the case in my previous life. With my father dead before I was even born, and my mother before I turned six; Erynion, the closest thing I'd ever had to a brother... he sometimes took his duty too seriously, and as much as I knew he cared he would have never allowed himself to be presumptuous enough to make the demands of my beloved the way a true family member would.

It took me a few seconds to realize that neither would Father... but he did not need to. One look was enough to make my match react:

"I know we... I have probably gone about this the wrong way." He began, talking softly but full of conviction. "I dare not ask for your permission, as I wouldn't want to diminish m... N... S... your daughter's own choices, of which I'm delighted to be one. So instead I say this: I would be honored if you gave us your blessing."

"Wise words..." Father nodded in agreement, pondering for a moment before adding. "If I do give my blessing, what will you do with it?"

I didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but my Maverick did.

"Nightingale and I are one, a match, as far as magic and our souls are concerned." He said, a bit bluntly. "But I'd be very happy to make that official, by this world, and by any other."

"I approve." Father nodded, smiling genuinely. "Though I believe that statement implies a question, one I should not be the one to answer."

"Very true, your Majesty." Loki nodded, smiling wide before turning towards me.

The moment he dropped on one knee, the breath caught in my throat.

"Nightingale, A'maelamin (My beloved)... I've loved you for as long as I can remember, in this life, and quite probably in others as well." He stated in a very dramatic, and obviously heartfelt tone of voice. "I wish for nothing more than to walk through life, this one, and however many others we might have, with you by my side. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

"Of course." The words were coming out of my mouth before I could even think about it. "I've been by your side, and by your side I'll remain, in this life and any other we might be blessed enough to share..."

I threw myself into his arms then and kissed him. Controlling myself just enough not to give my Father a heart-attack...

It was probably a good thing we were taking breakfast in a private room, as I didn't even want to think what would happen if others had been witnesses to that particular exchange. Not that I thought there was anything wrong with it, but just the day before we'd told Ross the two of us were married... it would have been hard to explain why then 'Luka' had just proposed.

 **xXx**

We dropped by the Joint Counter Terrorist Center once more before leaving for Wakanda (and that had been yet another shock, when T'Challa informed us that he'd gotten a message from the Panther God in his sleep; my match was being allowed entrance into Wakanda, and if he passed the trials to gain citizenship then he could stay, make a life there, as had I; of course my Maverick agreed to it all right away, there was no doubt in either of our minds that he would pass). Mr. Ross had taken his new post already, with Miss Carter as her second in command. The first thing in their to-do-list had been dealing with Zemo who had told them he wouldn't be answering any questions at all until he got to talk to me.

Of course my family didn't like it. They were prickly enough already that I wasn't wearing the body-armor anymore. But at first we were supposed to be heading home, and even when there was the change of plans, I knew it would be a bad idea for me to change, that we'd be sending the wrong kind of message to the people in the CIA and the UN, that we didn't trust them. My match had assured them all he wouldn't be leaving my side all day, he'd make sure nothing harmful came anywhere close to me.

So, after some arguing (we all were so terribly stubborn... it didn't make thing easy), it was eventually decided that I'd go into the Containment area to speak to Zemo, and my husband would be going with me. Nareema would stay outside the door (Ayo, Aneka and Okoye were staying with the rest of the family).

I knew there were a lot of eyes on us. While Zemo, Loki and I were the only ones in the room (and he was inside a little box, much like Barnes had been the day before), one of the walls was one-sided glass, and I had no idea just how many people were watching either from there, or from the command room. Even then, I didn't concern myself with them, they weren't the reason I was there, after all, Zemo was.

"I was told you wanted to talk to me." I said for a start.

I knew better than to show myself to be compassionate; much as it went against a part of my instincts, the part of me that always wanted to take care of people, that felt his pain and almost hurt for him... but I also felt his anger, his rage, and that was enough to remind me to keep my distance, to remind me that the path the man before me had chosen to walk after his tragic loss was one I'd never ever consider.

"Who are you?" He asked, cocking his head to a side.

"I believe I answered that question yesterday." I replied evenly. "My name is Silbhé, adopted daughter of King T'Chaka, youngest princess of Wakanda." I waved a hand at my husband. "And this is my husband, Luka Hvedrungr."

"You weren't here yesterday." Zemo pointed out, looking at my love carefully.

"Not at first, no." My Maverick shrugged with faked carelessness. "Work kept me away from my wife's side longer than I intended. I arrived after most of the events of the day were over."

"Yes, you were shot." He stated, turning back towards me, seemingly dismissing my beloved completely. "I heard."

I could have snorted. Agents were even worse gossipers than a bunch of housewives living in the suburbs of whatever-country. And regarding his treatment of my love, I did not mind, it was actually better if he (if anyone) didn't look too closely.

"Why am I here Mr. Zemo?" I insisted.

"I had the perfect plan, you know?" He commented, he sounded almost flippant, and yet there was an edge of... something, in his voice. Anger? Desperation? "Yes, my plan was perfect... I was going to watch en empire fall!"

"That's what you told Rogers yesterday, when he asked what you wanted." I commented, looking more closely at the choice of words. "You say empire... but you didn't mean a country, did you? No, your anger is at the Avengers. They are your empire, the one you thought you could make fall, to watch it and know it was because of you."

"I had a perfect plan." Zemo insisted. "I had information on all of them... every single one of them. Knew their strengths and weaknesses, every possible angle, all the ways that make them tick. The Accords were just the trigger, the excuse... my plan was perfect, they'd have turned against each other would have destroyed each other. Their empire would have fallen!" He almost snarled then. "And then you appeared. I had nothing on you... He gave me nothing about you!"

"He...?" I arched a brow.

"Don't know his name." Zemo shrugged, showing how unimportant he thought that part was. "He'd the information I needed to get my vengeance, that was all that mattered to me."

I had no doubt that my brother, Ross, possibly even Stark, would be researching that angle, hopefully it'd lead them to the one who'd helped Zemo.

"Well your trigger matters to me." I retorted. "You almost killed my Father!"

"A regretful but necessary loss." He replied, completely unfeeling.

I was furious. Enough to almost answer with: 'Really, is that what your family was?', but in the end my empathy won out, and I chose just to stare at him instead.

"I knew nothing about you." He pressed. "And you ruined my plans!"

"I'm not an Avenger." I reminded him calmly. "And few people outside of Wakanda know about my adoption and my royal status."

"You're not Avenger, yet you kept their empire from falling." Zemo insisted. "Why?! Why would you aid those monsters?!"

"Monsters is such an awful term." I commented softly. "People may do monstrous things, either by accident, by choice, or simply because there was nothing they could do to stop it... and that doesn't mean they themselves are monsters. I understand you lost your family, and that it has brought you great grief. But do you honestly believe that, if they were here, they would be proud of what you have done?"

Zemo let out a wordless roar of rage but I ignored him, I wasn't done talking yet.

"You killed a good man, a man who never hurt anyone, who did nothing wrong, whose only mistake was to be in the very spot where you wished to be in order to put your plan into effect." I went on. "Dr. Broussard had family too, did you know? He had a girlfriend with a son he cared greatly for, a widowed sister, two nieces and one nephew; he even had a mother who still lives. They all now mourn his death, the death of a man you killed, not because he was bad, or even your enemy, but simply because he was in your way. Should they now come after you, wish your death to feel better about the loss of their relative? Thinking that death must be repaid with more death is stupid and pointless. Even if you had succeeded, what then? That wouldn't have brought your family back. Nothing can do that. It's a feat beyond even the most powerful beings. You may yet join them though, in due time. And what do you think they will think of you when you do? Do you think they will be happy that you set out in a quest to avenge them? That you killed good men and women, not even just Dr. Broussard, but people in Vienna that day whom I couldn't shield? Do you think they will like that? Is that what you'd have taught your children, had they lived to grow up and be adults? That it is okay to hurt people just to feel better about yourself? And not even that, because I know for a fact that you feel no satisfaction, even if you had succeeded, it's unlikely you would have felt good about it. Vengeance can bring no peace and no joy, only more sadness, grief and loss."

"You know not what you speak of." Zemo hissed, though I could see tears in the corners of his eyes, could sense the warring emotions in him.

"I know more than you could ever comprehend." I said, offhandedly. "But that's not important. What's important is that you failed, and now you know why. I doubt it will make much difference in the end." I was about to leave, when I just had to go back. "There's just one thing I need to know. If you had won, if the 'empire' as you keep calling the Avengers had fallen, what then? What would you have done? What do you think would have happened then?"

Zemo did not answer. I wasn't sure if it was because he did not dare voice the answer, or if he honestly did not have one. I shrugged, deciding that it probably didn't make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

"You know what your real mistake was, Mr. Zemo?" I asked next. "It wasn't me, not knowing about me or whatever. No, your mistake was seeing the Avengers as an 'empire' in the first place. Empires can fall, that is true; but the Avengers are not something so simple as an Empire, they're a family: by choice, and word, and deed. And families may tear themselves apart from the inside out, but they will always come back together when they are needed. Because in the end the blood of the covenant is, indeed, stronger than the water of the womb, and than any other force in this world, and outside it too."

I wasn't sure he got everything I was saying, probably not; in the end it wasn't my problem. Halmut Zemo wasn't my problem.

I did believe what I'd just said though. The day before things had been really awful with the Avengers. But even as I'd been on my way to talk to the Sokovian I happened to pass by a room where Stark and Rogers stood side by side, a few other Avengers around the room, as they argued with several members of the UN council about the less-than-agreeable things that had happened the day before (like the mess in Bucharest), things that the Accords shouldn't have allowed to happen in the first place. The day before they'd been standing on opposite sides, but in that moment they were back together, a united front, a family... like they were supposed to be.

I knew that moment was just the beginning. We had managed to survive something that could easily have gotten much worse, ended with the Avengers split right down the middle. Thankfully it hadn't come to that, the conflict had been stopped in time and they'd all managed to see the others' point, to talk, to compromise. I chose to believe that after the last three days they'd be coming out stronger, better able to deal with their own differences, less likely to lose it the next time something difficult happened that challenged their view of the world, of each other, or even of themselves...

Truth was, the world needed the Avengers, and the Fantastic Four, and the X-Men, and all the other heroes that existed. Big things were coming. My love hadn't told me much, but I knew that, if he didn't know things for certain, he at least suspected it, probably even the shape those things would take. The chitauri invasion in New York had been the start, but it wasn't the end, not by a long shot. There was a lot more coming, and if we hoped to be able to win the next battle, to potentially win the war, keep our people safe, our world protected... then we'd all need to stand together. All of us.

It went beyond the Avengers, or the Accords, or even Wakanda moving past its former isolation. The whole world would one day need to stand together if we were all to survive, to hopefully thrive... it was a sobering notion, but I knew we could do it. If a group of superhumans (even those not enhanced, like Tony Stark, I believed them to be super in some way), if they could move past what had almost become a war among themselves (a civil war... what a simple, yet terrifying concept), then we could do the same. We had a good example to follow after all.

But all those were things I could worry about later. They wouldn't be easy, no, but there would be time for them.

Later that same day, as I sat in a private jet, the love of my existence at my side, all I needed to think about was how we were on our way home. How I'd see mom again, to kiss her, to embrace her, to reassure myself that she was alright... I'd finally be able to show my beloved my home, the home I so loved: my country, my tribe... and we'd soon be married by human laws, like we were by magic ones. Yes, everything would be just fine.

* * *

So, how did you like it? I really hope you did, insane as I think this AU came out...

See ya all in three weeks with the next AU. The focal point next piece is: Stark. (If anyone guesses what's coming exactly I'll give you virtual cookies! Not much, I know, but it's really all I have).


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